


Hope is the Thing

by FunnyWings



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Double agent!Castiel, Dream Ghosts, F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Moral Dilemmas, Multi, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, didn't want to tag all of them, dystopian au, lots more characters, soldier!Castiel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-06
Updated: 2018-04-24
Packaged: 2018-09-28 14:22:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 170,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10115483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FunnyWings/pseuds/FunnyWings
Summary: The year is 110 in the Age of Light, brought on by the first Lightbringer. Castiel is a disgraced soldier of the state who abandoned his position after a traumatic event that made him question whether or not he could fulfill his duties to the state. After two months running from state authorities however, he has been caught in the city of Superbia and brought to Naomi who offers him a second chance to prove his loyalties and be returned to his garrison. All he has to do is infiltrate and spy on resistance forces.Castiel just wishes he was still completely sure his loyalties were only to the state.





	1. the thing with feathers

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there. Here's some quick info and a warning.
> 
> 1) The Seven Cities
> 
> This is set in a dystopian America where seven cities make up the main hubs of state forces and governments while rural areas are less controlled and now make up a majority of the country, area wise. Each of the seven cities is geographically placed in the same place as the cities I've listed below next to them.
> 
> -Superbia: Detroit  
> -Invidia: Philadelphia  
> -Ira: New York  
> -Acedia: Houston  
> -Lucrum: Phoenix  
> -Guttur: Chicago  
> -Libidine: Los Angeles
> 
> 2) The dating system used in this works under the assumption that when the first Lightbringer came to power, he marked that as year 0. The actual year would be 2162 CE.
> 
> 3) Part of this story is about the effects of Castiel breaking free of state propaganda, and for him this leads to thoughts of suicide. I tagged this, but if you don't read the tags, this is to make sure you know that that is in here.
> 
>  
> 
> That's all I have to say. Hope you enjoy.

NOVEMBER 2, 110 A.L. - SUPERBIA

Castiel picked the booth in the very back of the quiet diner. The man who owned it, Ernie, had poor eyesight, and was a little hard of hearing, both of which were qualities Castiel very much appreciated in his current situation. It helped that although the required propaganda was posted on the walls, it was out of date and none of the regulars said their thanks to the Lightbringer before tucking into their meals. It was as close to apolitical as anywhere was, these days. The perfect place to hide.

Castiel’s hands were steady as he nursed his coffee. To a casual onlooker he might look relaxed, but his back was to the wall and he had mapped the quickest route to the exit. He had also ranked every other patron of the diner by how likely they were to be a threat. One girl in the corner was small and blonde had an attitude that practically screamed resistance, which was worrying but not enough for Castiel to leave before he’d satisfied his caffeine addiction. Everyone else just looked tired. Tired was good. Tired people didn’t notice strange men sitting in corners drinking coffee.

At least most of the time.

The boy who walked in was sixteen years old, and had a patch on his jacket that identified him as a soldier in training. Castiel had put his money on the table within a second of seeing him and was about to wait until the boy was distracted before slipping out quietly, but it was too late. Too young eyes focused in on him, and Castiel reacted by pulling out his gun and pointing it at the boy.

“Hey now,” said Ernie, immediately aware of the change in atmosphere. He was attuned to tension despite lacking in his other senses. “We don’t want trouble here.”

“I was just leaving,” Castiel said calmly, gun still trained on the boy, who looked like a deer stuck in headlights. Castiel slowly started to move towards the door, and the boy seemed to realize he needed to act quickly or Castiel would get away. He reached for his phone and pressed the emergency button too quickly for Castiel to try to stop him by letting off a warning shot. He swore and turned to run when he noticed the resistance girl sneaking up behind the soldier in training with a knife. He knew he should leave it alone, but before Castiel could talk himself out of it he had readjusted the gun so it was pointing at her. She noticed.

“Don’t help,” he said to her quietly. She backed away before the boy could turn around and see who Castiel was talking to, and by the time the boy had turned around, Castiel had run out of the exit and down the street. He took the first right he could and then took a circuitous route as far away from the diner as he could manage, running in a manner meant to look urgent but not terrified. He relaxed when he was about a mile away and slowed his running to a slow walk. It looked as though he had gotten away in one piece.

“Castiel.”

Lady Luck certainly was fickle this morning.

“Ephraim,” Castiel said, tonelessly to a man he knew to be a medic. The kind of medic that was sent to dispatch soldiers wounded beyond being healed by even the most advanced of methods. Castiel wasn’t stupid. He knew he was surrounded, and that at this point there was nothing he could do to escape death. The only question that mattered to him at the moment was whether or not he had the energy to make it difficult for them. “I assume you aren’t alone.”

“You aren’t scraping your way out of this one,” Ephraim confirmed, eyes trained on Castiel. “If you come quietly, we’ll-“

“Beat me just as badly as if I fight,” Castiel said. “When capturing one of our own, show no mercy. That is still protocol, is it not?”

Castiel didn’t miss the smirk on Ephraim’s face before he felt something hit his back and pierce his skin. He was on the ground within seconds convulsing, as the electricity ran through his body, and it was long seconds before it stopped. Ephraim walked up to him and roughly nudged him onto his back so he could see Ephraim standing above him. He pulls out a shot, and shows it to Castiel before bending down next to him.

“We don’t want to make an example of you Castiel,” said Ephraim. “You have a higher purpose.”

“What does that mean?” asked Castiel, eyes focused on the needle. “I’m not coming back.”

“We’ll see,” said Ephraim. He stabbed the needle into Castiel’s arm and within seconds the world went dark.

*************

Everything was green.

Castiel stared upwards at the sunlight filtering through leaves, and it took him a moment to realize he was lying on the ground. He reached a hand up, as though to touch the interweaving branches that stretched above him. Instead his hand reached another and he was pulled to his feet.

“Anna,” he said. “You’re dead.”

“Shh,” she said, putting a finger to her lips. She was dressed in white, but Castiel could already see the bright red of her wound leaking through her clothing. “What do you think?”

“Of what?” Castiel asked, looking around him. His surroundings were vibrant, flowers of every hue growing among the trees. “It’s beautiful, Anna.”

“Wrong answer,” she sighed. She took his hands and pressed them against her stomach where the blood was still leaking through. “It hurts, Cas.”

“I know,” he said softly, doing his best to catch her as she collapsed. “But it’s okay. You’ll be okay, Anael. It’s just like going to sleep.”

“You always said you hoped heaven was a garden,” Anna said weakly. Castiel nodded, sinking to his knees as he slowly lowered her body to the floor. Castiel pressed his hands harder into her wound, desperately trying to hold her life in and he’d done this before. He did this every time. Anna smiled up at him. “You need to keep fighting Cas. It’s time for me to rest.”

“Yes. Go to sleep. I’m right here.”

************

NOVEMBER 2, 110 A.L. - SUPERBIA

Castiel had been sat up in a chair before he regained consciousness. He was, of course, restrained, but otherwise unharmed which was unusual. In front of him a woman, watching him thoughtfully, obviously waiting for him to wake up. Castiel sat up straight and stared at a point above her left shoulder. She took that as her cue to speak.

“You’ve given us quite the chase.”

“My apologies,” Castiel said tonelessly. He tested the strength of the chair he was handcuffed to and was unsurprised to find it was metal. And bolted to the floor. “I didn’t mean to be an inconvenience.”

She frowned at him, taking down some notes before addressing him again. This time she had a practiced gentle smile lightening her severe features, and if Castiel were an idiot he might even believe she genuinely wanted to make him feel more comfortable. Luckily he had the bite of metal into his wrists to remind him through any lingering grogginess that he was currently in grave danger.

“Well, Castiel, the good news is you have the opportunity to make it up to us,” she said. “We found you last week and have been keeping an eye on you since.”

“Why?” Castiel asked. The woman seemed to take this as a sign of progress, because her smile widened and she leaned forward slightly. Her teeth were gleaming white. “Surely a bullet to the head would have been more efficient? No one would have protested.”

“No, but we have other uses for those who defect for personal reasons,” said the woman, causing Castiel to grit his teeth and look down. He’d given himself away, but he didn’t care. The anger at what he knew the woman was about to address was still fresh and bubbling inside him, his nightmare only adding fuel to the horror. “I understand you lost the Commander of your garrison on a mission. That must have been difficult for you.”

“I was ordered to shoot her,” Castiel said flatly, letting his glare speak for itself.

“It’s my understanding that you didn’t. Field reports indicate you… attempted to shoot yourself instead,” said the woman. Her eyes were appraising as she continued to stare him down. “Do you want to know what that tells me Castiel?”

“No.”

“It tells me you still believe in the cause. In the country. You chose death over defying an order. We didn’t take that lightly,” said the woman, steepling her hands. “You were close with your Commander. We should have taken that under consideration. But Anael was defying orders and we can’t let that sort of precedent stand. You do understand that, don’t you Castiel?”

“Intellectually,” said Castiel, shortly. He didn’t want to be in this room, speaking in a civilized manner to a pencil pusher who knew nothing of the closeness being part of a garrison meant. He’d rather be sitting across from an executioner than a bureaucrat.

“Castiel,” the woman sighed in annoyance. “You’re going to want to cooperate with us.”

“Protocol states a disobedient soldier is a dead one,” said Castiel. “I disobeyed.”

“The good of the state is above all,” said the woman. “And you can still contribute to the good of the state. In fact, you are in a unique position to do something no one else can at the moment. We are willing to be forgiving for that, Castiel. If you do as you’re told, you can be reassigned to your garrison. See your fellow soldiers again.”

Castiel stared her down a moment, trying to determine the veracity of her claim. She didn’t blink or otherwise betray herself.

“What do you want me to do?

NOVEMBER 11, 110 A.L. - SUPPERBIA

Castiel didn’t like the spaces the resistance tended to favor. Gritty establishments that served poorly home-brewed drinks and food as likely to empty your stomach as fill it, given an almost cheerful insistence on violating health codes. He also had the tendency to stand out like a sore thumb, which meant he couldn’t even begin to relax. There was no one there that didn’t know he was a soldier just from seeing him, and people avoided him like he was the food on their plates.

On the one hand, Castiel was frustrated with his instructions and their seeming futility. On the other, Naomi might soon realize he was entirely the wrong man for the job she had given him and kill him, so there was that to look forward to.

It was as he was entertaining this line of thought that someone sat in front of him. Castiel tensed in surprise and had to force himself not to flee his seat. He was still fighting the instincts that had kept him from being caught for almost two months.

“Hey, easy man,” the blonde woman said, holding up her hands. “I just want to talk.”

She was the woman from the diner. She called out to the woman behind the bar, Kali, to bring the two of them drinks.

“I don’t need-“

“I’m paying,” the woman said, as though that settled that. “Name’s Jo.”

She reached out a hand that Castiel stared at, and held it in front of him past the point of courtesy and right into the territory of insistence. Castiel relented and shook her hand, which seemed to satisfy her. Castiel didn’t smile. It wouldn’t look genuine.

“Are you going to tell me your name?”

“James.”

“Is that your real name?”

“No,” said Castiel. “But it still works.”

“Okay then, Jimmy, I’ve got a proposition for you,” said Jo. “I can’t help but notice you seem to be at odds with the state.”

“That’s one way of putting it,” Castiel confirmed. “I wouldn’t be here if I weren’t.”

There was no one in Light’s Out Bar that wasn’t at some level involved in rebelling against the state, excepting Castiel himself. Even the name itself was a slight against their founder. They were living in the Age of Light. To suggest otherwise was, of course, treasonous.

“We’re recruiting,” said Jo, putting a card on the table between them. “Show up, show us what you’ve got.”

“Why should I?” asked Castiel, knowing that Naomi would kill him if she could hear him right now. This was just what she wanted, and it was the only time he’d been approached by anyone even remotely related to resistance. He should accept it without question. “You were going to kill that boy.”

“He was trying to get you caught.”

“He was sixteen,” said Castiel. “And in training. I doubt he was even armed. And if you hadn’t tried to interfere I might’ve had time to…”

Castiel trailed off, realizing he’d already fumbled this mission behind repair. Jo was sharp enough to pick up on the hesitation, and her eyes fell to the rubbed raw circles on his wrists before he could withdraw and hide his arms.

“You didn’t get away,” Jo realized, narrowing her eyes at him. “But they let you go.”

“Yes.”

“Do I even have to tell you how bad this looks for you?” asked Jo. “You want to know what we do to spies around here?”

“Nothing pleasant, I’d assume,” said Castiel, not missing for a second that Jo had pulled out her knife. “Just make it quick.”

That made her pause. She put her knife away and crossed her arms while looking him up and down. Whatever she saw seemed to make up her mind. When Kali shoved down two drinks on their table, Jo handed over her money without another word and then drained her glass quickly. Castiel hesitantly copied her.

“Let’s start this over,” said Jo. “So you’re thinking about which side you’re on. Give me a few minutes to win you over.”

“You can’t trust me,” Castiel pointed out.

“No, but we need someone on the inside of the state’s operations,” Jo said. “And I think you might just be the guy. So how about we start with this. Why were you on the run?”

Anna’s lifeless face floated before him. He cleared his throat, and knew the truth was the only way he could have any hope of winning this girl’s trust. He wasn’t a spy, nor was he a particularly good liar. So he began to tell the story of the worst day of his life.

“We were on a mission…”

NOVEMBER 30, 110 A.L. - SUPERBIA

“What is this shit, Jo?”

Castiel stood at attention, not moving a muscle or even acknowledging that he was being spoken about two feet away. It was very tempting to point out that he could hear them, but he figured that insolence wouldn’t win him any favors, and Naomi would probably put him through an hour long meeting if she found out he jeopardized his chances at infiltrating what he had been led to understand was a fairly high level of resistance hierarchy (as much as they actually had).

“You and Sam said we need someone on the inside,” Jo pointed out. “And Charlie looked into him. He has a file about an inch thick for being…”

Jo paused and seemed to remember that Castiel was still standing there.

“Finding loopholes in orders,” Jo said, knowing from a series of conversations with Castiel that he didn’t react well to implications that he didn’t perform well as a soldier. It was one of the things that had made Jo wait so long before finally bringing him with her to a neutral space so he could be appraised for usefulness and trustworthiness. Apparently she hadn’t shared with her superior before dragging Castiel here exactly who he was.

“Jo, he wouldn’t even tell you his name. Charlie had to image search through the city’s database to find out who he was. I told you to drop this.”

“Billie thought it was worth looking into,” said Jo viciously. “And she still outranks you.”

The man scowled to hear this.

“Why didn’t she-“

“She didn’t want to hear you bitching. Now, are you going to interview him or what?”

The man sighed, and spared a glance at Castiel who was still standing at attention and pretending to ignore the two of them.

“Fine. Castiel, why are you here?”

“Jo asked me to be.”

Dean looked at Jo, who shrugged. Castiel noticed a smile hidden under her nonchalance though, and suspected she found it funny that he was annoying her superior. It was quite an unprofessional attitude to have, though he suspected it wasn’t uncommon among them.

“Let me rephrase that. Why shouldn’t I kill you for spying on us?”

“You should. Go ahead,” said Castiel. “That is unless of course you see merit in gaining information about the state. The statistics when it comes to defectors would indicate that the chances of finding someone else with the wealth of information I have that wants to share it and isn’t dead are infinitesimal.”

“So you want to help us out of the goodness of your heart, huh?” said the man, leaning over Castiel slightly in an obvious attempt to be intimidating. Castiel kept his expression carefully bored. “How do we know you’re on our side?”

“Tell him,” Jo encouraged at Castiel’s silence and blank expression.

“A friend of mine died under their orders,” Castiel said emotionlessly. The man snorted and Castiel kept his anger under check with effort. “Avenging her death would be… appreciated.”

“C’mon Jo,” he said skeptically. “This guy’s a robot. Just look at him. Doesn’t really strike me as the vengeance type. Or the friend type.”

“I felt her blood surge up between my fingers and watched the light fade from her eyes. We fought side by side for ten years, and she never led me or my fellow soldiers astray. Not once,” Castiel said. “Doubt my intentions if you must. But don’t doubt my pain.”

“What did she do to get shot?” the man asked, after pausing to consider this for a moment.

“We were told to fire on children. She refused. I was told to shoot her.”

“Did you?”

“No.”

“Why?” he asked. “Aren’t you guys all about following orders? Pulling the trigger, it’s pretty easy really. Especially if you’re-“

The man’s nose broke with a satisfying crunch. Castiel didn’t move when Jo pulled a gun on him, and the man swore loudly before pinching his nose to stop the bleeding. After Castiel made no more aggressive moves, Jo slowly started to lower her gun.

“Don’t ask stupid questions,” Castiel said quietly. Jo and the man exchanged glances, and when the man looked back at him this time, there was a little less suspicion in his eyes.

“Dean,” he said at last holding one hand out to shake while the other was still holding his nose. “You pull something like that again, I’ll shoot you. Until you get yourself killed you’re under Charlie’s supervision. Jo, show him around and keep him away from the sharp things.”

“I don’t need a weapon to be dangerous.”

“You’re a real ray of sunshine, anyone ever tell you that?” asked Dean. “Jo, ya mind taking our new recruit away before I hit him?”

“Yes, sir,” Jo said, as though she hadn’t spent the past half hour treating her superior as disrespectfully as she could manage. She strolled out of the alley they had been speaking in and towards a jeep that would likely take Castiel out of the city and towards the untamed areas the resistance liked to hide in. Castiel sat in the passenger seat, and did his best not to be apprehensive. Everything had gone fine so far. Naomi knew that he had changed the plan slightly so that he was posing himself as a double agent, which meant he had an excuse to check in frequently that Jo and Dean would assume was Castiel feeding Naomi false information and returning to them with correct information the resistance could use. They didn’t know that the opposite was true, and Castiel didn’t tell them.

DECEMBER 5, 110 A.L. - CAMP JEFFERSON STARSHIP

Charlie took to him too quickly.

She spoke twice as fast as anyone Castiel had ever met, and asked for his opinion on topics he knew nothing about. She sent him out for tasks and kept a running commentary on everyone in the camp so he “wouldn’t feel left out”. It was through her he learned some of the unspoken rules that governed the particular outpost he had been let into.

Billie was in charge. If she said something could or couldn’t happen, that was the final word on the subject. Because of this, no one ever went to her with any questions. Dean was the one who handled the day to day running of everything from food to weapons to the chances of a surprise attack. Sam was who you went to if you had an idea you knew Dean wouldn’t like and Billie would laugh in your face if you brought up. Sarah, Kevin, and Frank were who you went to if you wanted an obscure piece of information found quickly, and for apparently obvious reasons you went to them specifically in that order. Benny, Rufus, Gordon, Risa, Tamara, and Linda were each in charge of a section of the camp. Everyone had to be proficient with a weapon, but it seemed not everyone was involved with the attacks on state resources that Castiel remembered having to defend against when he was still working with his garrison.

He felt a pang of pain at this and his bad mood was met with a loud meow, and suddenly a soft creature was inhabiting his lap.

He’d forgotten about the cat. The sole reason Charlie had decided to trust him so quickly was that “Crookshanks knows when people are bad news”. It was a power Charlie seemed to truly believe cats possessed. Castiel looked down at the grey ball of fur that seemed almost obnoxiously determined to like him and sighed.

“If you’re supposed to sniff out trouble, you are horribly defective,” he said to the cat. She only blinked at him and then went back to curling up in his lap. He sighed and began to gently pet the creature while he waited for Charlie to wake up and begin their day of activity. This was his last day until he returned to Naomi and shared what he had learned and found out the pre-approved useful information he was going to be allowed to share with Dean so they could plot their next attempt to destabilize the state. Which meant he had to have a meeting with Dean, Billie, Sam, and Charlie before he left.

He wasn’t looking forward to it.

Sam did not like him. Castiel supposed he could understand why, considering he had broken his brother’s nose, which Jo and Charlie had both snickered at but Sam had taken very seriously. Castiel personally thought Sam’s reaction made more sense. Castiel was a highly trained soldier that with a slightly different angle could have killed Dean by sending the cartilage in his nose into his brain. He hadn’t, but he could have. Dean didn’t dislike him, so much as didn’t trust him, and was always poking at him to try to get him to mess up. Charlie, as mentioned before, liked and trusted him entirely too much and he hadn’t met Billie yet. All in all, he didn’t expect it to be a fun experience.

“Cas?” yawned Charlie from her room. She had the door closed behind her, which meant likely she’d had company the previous night. Castiel didn’t pay much attention to it and Charlie had fortunately not broached the subject. He didn’t see it as any of his business. “You’re up early.”

“I don’t need much sleep,” Castiel said, honestly. “I was going to go for a run, but…”

“Then a lump of fur sat in your lap,” Charlie said, smiling wide. “Your tough guy persona is dying a horrible death as we speak.”

“I’ve been told the Egyptians worshipped cats,” Castiel said evenly. “I can see why. They don’t really take no for an answer.”

“Makes you wonder who’s the owner and who’s the pet, huh?” she said, picking up a squirming Crookshanks from Cas’ lap. He nodded at her gratefully.

“I don’t understand why they let you have pets,” Castiel confessed, as he’d been confused since he first met Charlie the week before why they would allow her an extra mouth to feed when they already had limited resources. They depended on deliveries of food from areas outside the State that were helping them in their rebellion. “They’re an unnecessary drain on resources, and they have no contributions that would be economically viable. That’s why-“

“-the State outlawed them,” Charlie finished for them.

“Cats are useful in rural areas for killing vermin,” Castiel mused. “Is that where you found her?”

“Uh, yeah,” Charlie said, for a moment sounding a little guarded. Castiel picked up on it, but made sure he gave no outward sign that he’d hit on something they weren’t yet prepared to share with him.

“So you travel,” he continued. “No one group is assigned to one city. I’m assuming that makes it harder for people trying to catch-“

“Hey Cas,” said Jo, having appeared seemingly out of nowhere. Charlie breathed a sigh of relief at the interruption and Castiel had a very strong feeling she had been a lot more careful around him than perhaps he’d first guessed. “You ready for the meeting of death?”

“If only it were,” Castiel said darkly. Jo and Charlie exchanged an uncomfortable glance at that, neither seeming to know quite what to say. Castiel pressed forward, not wanting half-hearted comfort from people who didn’t know him. “I’m prepared.”

“Al-Alright,” Charlie stuttered, looking at him as though he’d just announced he intended to skin her cat in front of her. She really did look horrified, to Castiel’s surprise, and Jo was frowning at him as well.

“Let’s go then,” Jo said at last, reaching out a hand to help Castiel stand up despite the fact he was perfectly capable of lifting himself. He took it and was surprised when she squeezed his hand for a moment, before stomping off ahead of both him and Charlie.

“Jo, you can’t come to the meeting,” Charlie called after her.

“Whatever you say, Red,” said Jo, not altering course for a second. Charlie sighed after her.

“She’s supposed to be doing inventory this morning. I bet she paid off Dr. Newman to do it,” Charlie said. “He needs more tenth coins so he can play tooth fairy.”

Castiel stopped in his tracks.

“There are children here?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Charlie said. “Oh shit, sorry. Dean didn’t want you to uh…”

“Shoot them?” Castiel asked, remembering telling Dean and Jo the events that surrounded Anna’s death. “The faith you have in me is inspiring.”

“We’ve known you a week,” Charlie reminded him. “And well… the double agent thing. Naomi thinks you’re working for her. We think you’re working for us. Only you really know where your priorities are at. You can’t blame us for…”

“I can blame you for placing children in danger,” said Castiel. “I have to give them accurate information that isn’t harmful. I assume you’ve been keeping them in areas I’m not allowed in. I’ve made assumptions about each of these areas and might advise on whether or not to raid them. Your safety precautions could get you killed.”

It wasn’t quite deception. He had no plans to put innocents in danger during his time as a double agent, and even though he was working for Naomi, he wasn’t going to give her anything that could harm those that couldn’t decide for themselves the situation they’d been born into.

“Yeah, well, better we risk it than we tell you where they are and they definitely get killed,” Charlie said, for a moment dropping her friendly demeanor and looking at Castiel with a very serious expression. “I want to think the best of you. I even do most of the time. But there’s no such thing as too much caution, and for the time being it’s best that you don’t know too much about us.”

“Let it be clear that I have enough experience with taking orders to know when someone’s words are repeated and when they are their own,” Castiel said, not buying for an instant the Charlie that had been so open with him would have an instinct for hiding information with being directed to do so. He knew he had Charlie’s trust. He slept in a spare room in her cabin, and although he knew she was armed or within reach of a weapon at all times, as well as highly skilled at combat, she wouldn’t put herself at a disadvantage around him if she had any doubt. No, it was clear that what was keeping him from getting information currently was Dean. He was the only one that had any hope of controlling Charlie, who was outside of any hierarchy the resistance seemed to be trying to enforce and was very much her own master. Not even Billie held much sway with her, as far as Castiel could tell. All of which had reinforced the idea that Charlie was incredibly necessary and valuable to them, since they let her bend rules as she pleased.

There was a reason Charlie was the only person in camp besides Sam with a pet. They might be technically allowed among resistance members, but it was definitely more of a luxury than a right. There were, of course, guard dogs, but Castiel hardly counted those. Even if Gordon did seem overly fond of his, and liked to train him to growl at people he didn’t like.

Castiel frequently avoided Gordon. Oddly, Sam did too, another thing he had taken note of.

“Alright, I hear you,” Charlie said, interrupting Castiel’s thoughts. “But that doesn’t change things. Dean usually knows what he’s talking about and if he wants you out of the loop, that’s what’s going to happen.”

“I didn’t expect otherwise,” said Castiel. Charlie raised an eyebrow at him, but Castiel kept a straight face. She ended up sighing and walking away, muttering about ‘it would help if you weren’t doing your best to be all suspicious’. Castiel followed her after a few seconds and didn’t mention that he could quite literally hear every word she was saying. He suspected it was on purpose.

Dean had his headquarters at the center of camp, and it was the only nonpermanent structure that Castiel had seen. That it was meant to be easily taken apart and moved made sense, especially with Castiel now suspecting they moved frequently. He had observed enough and knew enough from his time in the garrison to know that although a majority of people that helped the resistance were still technically members of the state and did so in secret, there was a large minority that lived exclusively outside anything that had to do with the state. Castiel had just always assumed that these people were only adults that had chosen to leave. It had never occurred to him that people raised children in such a hostile environment.

After they had walked up to the tent, Charlie held open the entrance while Castiel passed through. Three sets of eyes were immediately drawn to him and Castiel nodded his head slightly in acknowledgment before standing at attention in front of them. Old habits died hard he supposed. Charlie nudged him to relax as she passed by him to sit next to Dean. Castiel rolled his shoulders back and then slowly took a seat at the opposite of the table as the other four. He didn’t flinch when a second later, Jo had taken the chair beside him.

“Really, Jo?” Dean asked. She crossed her arms and looked at him in challenge. “You don’t have rank for this conversation.”

“I brought him in,” she pointed out, smile sickly sweet. “My find. I should be here.”

“Let her stay,” came the calm voice of Billie, soothing through the tension in the room. Castiel’s attention was instantly won by her. He could recognize the sound of a voice that held power. That everyone around her went silent when she spoke was superfluous to already ample evidence that she was in charge here. Dean grit his teeth, but let it pass.

“Fine,” Dean said at last. “Let’s get this started then. First thing’s first: what are you planning on sharing with your boss over on the other side?”

Castiel considered Dean, weighing him up. He was charismatic, and although Billie held the most clout, he was the one with loyalty behind him. Whether this was earned or not was not something Castiel had not yet determined. Beside that, he was brash and emotional arguments appealed to him over rational ones. Despite this, Castiel was certain he wasn’t lacking in analytical skills and it was likely Dean was weighing up Castiel in return. Castiel kept silent a while longer, trying to see what other information he could glean and was interested to see Dean impatiently tapping his fingers on the table. He wasn’t someone who liked to wait for results. Castiel took all of this into consideration before settling on being blunt. It was what Dean would most appreciate and it would give him little to pick apart later.

“I don’t know what I can say,” Castiel said. “As it’s apparent I’m being fed misinformation. For all I know, I’ll be killed for that before I can be of any use to you.”

“Charlie,” Dean said quietly, eyes never leaving Cas. “What happened to being able to handle it?”

“What? He’s smart,” Charlie said, not even attempting to defend herself. “He was going to find out you were keeping things from him eventually.”

“He is sitting here and can hear all of you,” Castiel broke in quietly. He catalogued the different reactions to this statement. Charlie’s half smile of apology, Dean’s sharp shift of attention, Sam’s steady and calculating gaze, and Jo’s half snort. Billie’s expression was unreadable, and Castiel found her gaze the most unsettling. “I understand you don’t trust me. I also understand that that’s the worst thing you can do in this situation. If you think I’m here to harm you, you should get rid of me. If you don’t, I need access to everything. I can’t make informed decisions otherwise, and someone is going to get hurt because of it.”

“And if we choose wrong?” Billie asked, staring him down. Castiel met her gaze without flinching.

“Don’t choose wrong then.”

That seemed to cause a negative reaction from everyone. Even Jo couldn’t quite look at him after that. Castiel didn’t take it back. He wasn’t going to try to convince them to trust him. They either would or they wouldn’t. Simple as that.

“What do you think, Sam?” Dean asked at last, breaking through the silence. “You’ve been quiet.”

Castiel’s eyes shifted to Dean’s second in command. He was much more difficult to parse than his brother, and the exact role he held in the group dynamics was not as immediately obvious as Dean’s or Billie’s or even Charlie’s. This meant of course he was not to be underestimated. It’s a rare man who can so thoroughly hide their true nature at will.

“I think we keep him around,” Sam said, at last. “For now, at least. His file and his story add up. But one wrong move, Castiel, and you’re a dead man.”

“Understood,” Castiel said. “Though I have to say the more everyone threatens to kill me and doesn’t go through with it, the less effective it is.”

Once again everyone was staring at him. Castiel felt Jo elbow him in the side and took that as a cue to stop talking. Castiel did and waited for the meeting to go on. Dean pulled out a file and handed it to Castiel.

“You can share anything in here,” he said shortly. “All of it is accurate and Charlie figures it’s on level with information you may currently have while still excluding anything that might be harmful to us in the long run. Anything on a report you give to those sons of bitches better be from this list.”

Castiel nodded and took the file. He was certain it would be an interesting read and wondered what information hey considered non-essential.

“Jo’s going to drive you back. You come back to where she drops you off alone in a week’s time. Make sure you aren’t followed when you come back. That’s all we’ve got for now.”

“That’s all?” Castiel asked, astounded at the brevity of the meeting. He regretted letting his surprise show when Dean responded to it with a smug smile. He was meant to be caught off guard and to feel as though they knew things he didn’t. It was likely part of their evaluation of his honesty. “So I can leave now?”

“Sure. One week,” Dean said, and then pulled out a set of files that he passed out to Charlie, Sam, and Billie. It was as though Castiel suddenly didn’t exist. Castiel glanced at Charlie and caught a small wave before she got back to work. Jo, on the other hand, was quick to stand up and start pulling Castiel towards the exit. It was a long drive back and it was likely that Jo wanted to get started since she would have to make it both ways.

“That went about as well as I was expecting,” she said after they’d gotten out. “I think Dean might be coming around on you. Maybe. Sam’s going to take a while. Billie trusts no one, so… good luck there.”

“It’s natural to have misgivings,” Castiel said blandly.

“I do,” Jo admitted, turning to look at him as they reached her car. “But I know one thing. You’re not lying about your friend. And that means I’m almost a hundred percent sure you’re fighting for us. Maybe you don’t want to, and that’s dangerous. But you don’t see something like you saw and come out the same person. I guess what I’m saying is I believe in you even if I don’t trust you quite yet.”

“And if I work out, I’m sure you’ll appreciate the promotion you’re likely to get,” Castiel said, not wanting to face the sincerity of her words. Jo just shrugged.

“That would just be an upside,” she said. Then she started the car and they were off.

*************

“No, Cas!” Anna yelled before the shot rang out. The wrong shot. It seemed to happen in slow motion, Anna falling as Cas dropped his gun and ran to catch her before she hit the ground. His hands moved to press into the wound, trying to staunch the flow of blood. Anna, already fair skinned, was just getting paler and paler.

Castiel’s garrison was ordered to move out. He didn’t move from Anna’s side.

“You’ll be fine,” Castiel lied. Anna laughed in his face, before pain shot through her expression again.

“It hurts,” she said through gritted teeth. “Oh god, it hurts.”

“I know,” Cas said, offering his hand and letting her crush it in hers. “But you’re going to be fine. Just hold on-“

“You’re a terrible liar, Cas.”

Her words were harsh, but her eyes were terrified. Thoughts of death had never really haunted Castiel. Mortality was an inevitability and one he’d never thought to dwell on. He’d lost fellow soldiers before, and long known he himself might die in the line of duty. It was an acceptable sacrifice for the preservation of the state. He wasn’t frightened of death, but he could see suddenly Anna was. The woman that had been so fearless of everything else they had had to fight was terrified to die.

“You’ll be okay, Anael,” he told her softly. Offering the only thing he had left to give. “It’s just like going to sleep.”

Anna laughed softly at him, but something in her seemed to relax.

“No deathbed conversions for me,” she gritted out, trying to keep the smile one her face. “You always said you hoped heaven was a garden. Almost made me wish it were real.”

“You’d be an angel,” Castiel said, trying to make Anna laugh again. Trying not to panic as the light started fading from her eyes. “Anna?”

She hitched forward and looked up at him, for one moment her fierce determination resurfacing as she took in the expression on his face.

“You need to keep fighting,” she said, eyes narrowed on him. “Promise me. You keep fighting. It’s time for me to rest, but it’s sure as hell not time for you. That’s an order, soldier, do you understand me?”

“Yes,” Castiel said, watching as Anna relaxed again, her strength leaving her. Her hand loosening in his. “Go to sleep. I’m right here.”

*************

DECEMBER 6, 110 A.L. - SUPERBIA

“Hey!”

Castiel awoke with a start. He looked at the clock to see it was two in the morning and Jo had finished the long drive back to Superbia. She had stopped driving on the outskirts of the city, which Castiel understood. Although there were many that were part of the resistance or sympathetic to their cause that lived in the city (enough that Jo had felt comfortable eating at Ernie’s on the day Castiel had first seen her) didn’t mean it was safe. Especially since Castiel would most certainly be monitored from the moment he stepped foot inside it.

“I’m fine,” Castiel said instantly. Jo didn’t look convinced, but she nodded at him and reached across him to open the door. Feeling that it was a dismissal, Castiel exited and shut the door behind him. He was surprised when Jo rolled the window down and called after him, when he walked away.

“Castiel,” she said. “Make sure you get back to us in one piece, got it? Don’t die.”

She drove off before he could answer her. Castiel looked up to where he imagined Anna was probably watching him from. He wondered what she would think of him, attempting this charade. That he was out of his depth, probably. Then again, if she was looking down, it was likely only to make sure he kept his promise to try to stay alive.

Castiel supposed he could take comfort in the fact that he hadn’t promised her to try very hard.

DECEMBER 7, 110 A.L. - SUPERBIA

Everyone stared at Castiel when he walked the hallways to Naomi’s office.

He did his best to ignore the disdainful looks from some and the curious whispers from others. It wasn’t as though he weren’t expecting to be looked at differently after he had abandoned his position for two months before being forcibly brought back into the fold. Then again, he had always figured that if he got caught he would be dead soon after and he wouldn’t have to see the looks of betrayal on the faces of those he was supposed to serve.

At the very least, Ambriel tended to be nice to him. For the most part. She was Naomi’s assistant and had taken one look at Castiel the day before and sent him to a room that had been set aside for him to use on one of the lower floors. He had been ashamed that his utter exhaustion was so evident, but also grateful that he had a day to collect his thoughts before reporting to Naomi. After resting, he even requested a notebook and a pen so he could begin writing down everything he wanted to address.

He was carrying this notebook now as he sat in a chair a little ways off Ambriel’s desk. She looked up briefly to nod at him before going back to her computer. Castiel settled down to wait and tried not to fidget as the minutes passed by. He tried to ignore the constant presence of eyes examining him. It grew more and more difficult, and after fifteen minutes he approached Ambriel’s desk to see how much longer it would be.

“Sorry,” Ambriel said, eyes glued to her computer. “There’s an issue in Libidine that she needs to be on top of right now. She will be with you within an hour. If you want, I can call you back if you’re… uncomfortable.”

“I’m not the one who’s uncomfortable,” Castiel said quietly, nodding his head back slightly to indicate everyone who was closely watching the exchange. “I don’t think they much appreciate being in the presence of someone who deserted their post.”

“Castiel, honey, that’s the nicest thing they say about you,” Ambriel said, her intense focus on her work preventing any sort of filter or tact. Or perhaps she was always like this. Castiel wasn’t sure. “You know how it is. Rumors only grow. They haven’t read your case file for the facts like I have, and I can’t tell them what it says.”

“Idle chatter is not in keeping with the ideals of the state,” Castiel muttered. Ambriel shrugged.

“Go get some more sleep. I’ll call you up when she’s ready,” she said, telegraphing her desire to be free of his company now as blatantly as possible. Castiel obliged.

It was almost four hours before Ambriel did call him up. Castiel found his mind wandering to just what might be happening in Libidine that had occupied Naomi’s time for so long. It was the city farthest from Superbia, and one Castiel had been stationed in often. The people were more unruly there than they were here, and constant police force was necessary in order to prevent crime and fight against organized attacks by resistance groups.

It shouldn’t have been a surprise, then, to walk in and see a look of complete exhaustion on Naomi’s face. She tapped her pen against the desk as she considered her papers, glasses perched at the bottom of her nose as her eyes skimmed across what were likely reports from Libidine. Castiel sat, and decided not to feel slighted that she was ignoring him. It wasn’t as though he took pride in the work he were doing.

Naomi finally deigned to acknowledge his presence after he had sat. She looked up and stared at him pensively, for a good five minutes not saying a word. Castiel stared back impassively, determined not to be the first to crack. At last, Naomi sighed, took out a glass and a bottle of some sort of hard liquor. She poured a small amount and drank it before putting both items away and visibly preparing herself for the conversation.

“Out of curiosity, Castiel,” she began. “How much history do they teach soldiers?”

“Very little,” Castiel said truthfully. “Only what is publicly mandated knowledge for every citizen of the state. The rise of the Lightbringer and our entrance into the Age of Light, as well as key figures in-“

“Understood,” said Naomi, cutting him off. She sat quietly for another moment, and Castiel suspected she was searching her mind for some way to begin what she was going to tell him. “History is important, Castiel. What we were in the past, we can’t repeat that. That’s not just an opinion to repeat… it’s true. Do you know what this city used to be?”

“No, ma’am,” Castiel said.

“Dying. Superbia, our greatest city, used to be rotting from the inside out with dedicated residents desperately attempting to keep its heart beating. There were more abandoned houses than those lived in. That was, of course, before the Age of Light when this city was still called by a different name. You have to understand-“

“What was its name?” Castiel interrupted, finding himself curious. He could tell from the look on Naomi’s face that she didn’t appreciate his question, but she answered it anyway.

“I believe it was Detroit,” she said, lips pursed. “But my point is that through the power of the state, we saved this city. We saved this country. We can’t let it be reclaimed by rogue elements that will drive it into the ground.”

She sounded positively livid now and Castiel was now very curious about what exactly was in the reports she had been given.

“What happened?” he asked, attempting to cut through the bullshit. He watched as papers were shuffled in front of his superior’s hands and wondered if she would actually bother to answer him. He was surprised when he realized she was planning to, as sharing confidential information with him could be potentially dangerous.

“Libidine has been overrun by resistance forces,” said Naomi. “They took advantage of the changing of hands of the Lightbringer-“

“The last one died?” Castiel asked, surprised that no one had heard of it. Naomi nodded.

“He was assassinated. His replacement is still being debated, and those of us who are deciding thought it best the public didn’t know of his death before a replacement was found. Unfortunately, resistance forces were made aware of the vacuum of power and the resulting focus taken away from Libidine’s defenses in order to shore up Superbia, and they proceeded to take advantage of this to capture the city. Once news spreads…”

“It will be chaos,” Castiel said in a kind of stunned horror. Libidine had never even been close to falling out of the state’s control before now. But with the resistance making gains in that city, how long until they began attempting to outright take over the others? It was clear Naomi was thinking along these same lines, considering she poured herself another drink.

“I know you think of this as an exercise to be endured until you can rejoin your garrison,” Naomi said to him after grimacing from the burn of the alcohol. “But we need intelligence from higher ranks. We need to know what their plans are, who they’ll attack next. The state needs you to perform your part in keeping us unified.”

“Yes ma’am,” said Castiel. “My duty to the state is most important. I know that.”

Then why didn’t you shoot Anna when they commanded you to, an unhelpful voice whispered in the back of his mind. It would have been easy.

It was almost as though Naomi could read those thoughts. At the very least she also thought of Anna, and Castiel’s willingness to do what she had said, even in the face of clear evidence she was disobeying orders. Her death was a moment that Castiel didn’t like to dwell on for existential reasons. Of course, he still found he could do little else.

“Castiel,” Naomi said seriously. “I have… debated whether or not to tell you this. But I think it will help you in the long run. It’s something about Anna and the mission you were on the day she died.”

“I’d prefer not to-“

“The facility you were clearing was part of resistance attempts to create genetically modified children, as you know. These children were judged to be a danger to society and it came to light that not even those that created them could properly control them,” Naomi continued. “Still, it is not unheard of to have someone flinch at shooting what seems to be a civilian. Anna would have been reprimanded only if that was the extent of her crimes. The real reason we ordered she be killed is more complicated.”

“What?” Castiel asked flatly.

“The day you raided the facility was the same day as the assassination of our previous Lightbringer,” Naomi explained. “We discovered that she was complicit in the plot. By holding your garrison back, she was causing a distraction severe enough to interfere with security surrounding the Lightbringer. Since then, we’ve launched a full investigation and come to the conclusion that she was a member of a plot to overthrow the state government that we were luckily able to stop in its infancy by killing the parties responsible.”

Castiel tried to ignore the feeling of tethers within him snapping as he tried to think of Anna as a traitor to the state. Anna wouldn’t…

“That’s not possible.”

“She lied to you, Castiel. She lied to everyone in your garrison. I know this is difficult to hear, but it’s important for you to understand. Anael was a subversive,” Naomi paused to let this sink in. “Did she ever… approach you in any way about this plot? Ask you for help in secret?”

“No,” said Castiel quietly, an entire part of his life silently crumbling as Naomi spoke. The idea that Anna kept secrets from him, and that she used her position to go against the good of the state was… “No, I would have reported her if she had. She wouldn’t have trusted me not to.”

This seemed to satisfy Naomi. For the first time since the conversation had started, she seemed to relax slightly. Castiel had the feeling he had passed some sort of test.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Naomi said to him. “Alright, let’s begin with a verbal report. I’ll look over your written one this afternoon and share with you what information we want the resistance to be given tomorrow. After that, you’ll have one more meeting with me, and then you are free to do as you wish until it is time for you to return to their camp.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Castiel said. He looked down at the file in his hands and passed it to her before trying to determine where to start. He supposed it was best to begin with the key players he had met in camp. “They operate with dual leadership. Billie Barnes is the one who is actually in charge and holds the most power, while a man named Dean Winchester seems to hold more influence over the men and women who are at the camp. His second in command is his brother, Sam, and he also has an expert in technology Charlie Bradbury as his primary adviser. She is, in my opinion, one of the more formidable assets they have. Below these key players are six captains, each of which is directly responsible for a section of the camp. These six are Benny LaFitte, Rufus Turner, Linda Tran, Tamara Winchester, Risa Jones and Gordon Walker. Of these six, Benny and Tamara have most influence. Benny is a close friend of Dean Winchester while Tamara has been married to Sam Winchester for three years. That being said, none of the other four are to be underestimated and all appear well trained in combat and strategy. Every one in camp seems to have some degree of training, though their respective positions were not explained to me. During my time-”

“And how are they taking to you?” Naomi interrupted. Castiel paused.

“They don’t trust me,” he admitted. “I live with Charlie, and don’t interact very much with the other members of camp. I… I spent a morning with Sarah helping with paperwork, but they don’t use the state standard dating system and I kept forgetting the year they were using so she hinted she wanted me to leave and I obliged. Charlie has a cat.”

You’re the worst spy ever.

Castiel wondered when his internal critic had decided to sound like Dean Winchester and if there was some method he could make use of to purge this unwelcome addition to his mental landscape. Then again considering he still had near daily nightmares about Anna’s death, he suspected the answer was no.

“I see,” Naomi said, rubbing her forehead for a moment. “Do you have anything we can use against the two Winchesters then? Attacking Barnes directly would be… complicated.”

“Why?”

“Some people like to play both sides,” said Naomi. “And the man she works for is fond of her. I’d rather not disrupt current agreements we have with him. Our affairs are fragile at the moment, and we can’t afford to lose Guttur in addition to Libidine.”

“Guttur is one of the most stable of the seven cities,” Castiel said, already confused. “Are you saying it’s not directly under state control.”

“I’m saying politics are complicated, Castiel,” said Naomi. “Now, do you have any information we can use against the Winchesters?”

“Not yet,” Castiel said. “As I said, they don’t trust me. I’m kept at arm’s length, and Charlie is careful not to share any details she thinks I could use against them.”

The more Castiel thought of it, the more he realized how utterly he had failed at his basic assignment. He listened to what he was told and made guesses about the purposes of various camp activities, but he hadn’t done any major investigating for himself. Then again, he was trained as a soldier, not a spy. It wasn’t in his programming to ask questions.

Naomi’s look of intense disappointment did nothing for Castiel’s current feelings of self worth.

“Castiel, I need to know that you understand what I’m asking you to do,” said Naomi. “You can’t keep these people at a distance. You need to make friends. You say they don’t trust you. Convince them to.”

Castiel felt himself bristle, almost against his will at her implication that he was somehow underperforming on purpose. As though he didn’t want to assist her in any way he could and be sent back to his garrison.

“It isn’t that simple,” Castiel said, disliking the insolent irritation he couldn’t keep in. “I’m not… what’s the phrase? Ah yes, I’m not a people person. Ask anyone.”

“We have. You are almost universally beloved by your garrison,” said Naomi. She paused to add weight to what she said next. “Even after deserting.”

Castiel felt a lump build up in the back of his throat at this news, and he looked down at his lap in misery.

“That took ten years,” Castiel pointed out. Naomi raised an eyebrow in challenge and Castiel sighed. “I think… perhaps I could make more frequent attempts to make more friends among those of lower rank. It might set them at ease if I seem to have an emotional stake in their wellbeing. And… gossip can be useful source of information.”

“Yes, I would think so,” Naomi agreed instantly. “Just make sure you remember that the state always comes first. You need to be close to these people to do this job. Don’t let it blind you to what must be done. Is that understood, Castiel?”

“Yes. I understand.”

DECEMBER 12, 110 A.L. - SUPERBIA

Castiel stood at the corner Jo had left him at for half an hour before he noticed her car slowly glide its way towards him. He felt a degree of relief that he wouldn’t be forced to wait any longer. Every face he saw in this part of town was unfriendly to him, despite the fact he didn’t wear the insignia of a soldier anymore. Perhaps it was the way he held himself that made it so obvious who he was. Or perhaps survival required being able to recognize soldiers on sight. Either way, Castiel had a feeling he was one wrong move away from a stranger attacking him, and he was glad to not have to be on constant alert when he got into Jo’s car. When he walked up, he was surprised to see Charlie had accompanied her.

Neither spoke to him after he got in, and instead they drove about three miles outside town before pulling over to the side of the road. Castiel cleared his throat, wondering exactly what was happening.

“Jo? Charlie?”

“We’ve moved camps,” Jo said. “Dean doesn’t want you to know where it is. He asks that we ensure you don’t.”

Castiel looked between the two of them. Neither could meet his eyes.

“What does that mean?” he asked carefully. He had an awful feeling he knew what it meant, but didn’t want to acknowledge the obvious. They wouldn't ask him to-

“It’s a sedative,” Charlie said, taking out two pills and holding her palm out to him. Castiel’s eyes locked on them and then he began to laugh in disbelief.

“You can’t expect me to take those,” Castiel said immediately. Death he could handle. Waking up and finding himself imprisoned, or restrained again was not something he would take well. The only thing that had prevented him from panicking the first time it had happened under Naomi’s orders was the fact he thought he would be dead soon. Having to live a life under lock and key filled him with dread. “I won’t do it.”

“We can’t take you with if you don’t,” said Jo. “Sorry Cas.”

“It’s just like going to sleep,” Charlie tried and grimaced when Cas flinched away from her. She couldn’t know she had echoed his words to Anna, but she could tell he had reacted to the way she had phrased it. “Cas, look at me. I won’t let you get hurt. That’s why I came with Jo to pick you up. You trust me, don’t you?”

“I-“ Castiel started, cutting himself off with a deep breath. Charlie continued to look at him insistently and Castiel knew the correct answer even if it wasn’t the honest one. “Yes. I trust you.”

Charlie took his hand and pressed the two pills into them. Now resting on Castiel’s palm were two small invitations to complete loss of agency. Loss of control and surrender to the enemy. He let them rest a minute on his palm, gathering his courage before swallowing the both of them.

*************

The world was green again. Anna was dressed in white.

“You don’t look happy to see me,” said Anna, crossing her arms as she looked down at him. “Why’s that?”

Castiel tried to sit up, and found himself chained to the ground. Anna made a soft tsking sound at his predicament and then lay down beside him. She wasn’t bleeding yet. In his dreams she always bled.

“You betrayed us. You lied to me,” Castiel said, forcing himself not to look at her. “How could you lie to me?”

“Wrong answer,” Anna said to him seriously. “And wrong question.”

The world here was too bright. The colors unnatural where before in his dreams this place had been a welcome relief from the too vivid nightmares in which he saw Anna’s death as it had occurred, no detail spared. In the garden, Anna died among flowers and when she closed her eyes she looked at peace. When Castiel dreamed of what had really happened, he was forced to contemplate the glassy stare he had been left with as his last image of her.

Of course why dwell on this when everything was different now?

“Why did you lie to me?” Castiel said again, angry and worse still, unable to do anything about it. Chained to the ground in his own dream and helpless to truly confront Anna. Instead he had to lay there, passively while she was free to leave him helpless in this too bright garden with no answers.

“You would have turned me in,” Anna pointed out, sitting up so she loomed over him. “But you do remember I wasn’t always so careful. I did ask you Castiel. If you had doubts. Concerns. If you ever thought the rules were unjust.”

“And I confided in you,” Castiel said through gritted teeth. “Everything.”

“I know,” she said gently. Her expression turned playful as she looked back up above them. “Sunlight through leaves. I told you that was my favorite color.”

“Anna…” Castiel forced out. “Don’t.”

“You always listened to me very closely Castiel,” Anna said, voice serious now. “You know what you have to do. You just don’t want to.”

“And what’s that?” Castiel asked, not without resentment. Anna sat up and looked down at him. With a touch, the chains keeping him still disappeared and Castiel was free to stand. Anna was bleeding again. Castiel hated himself as he caught her when she began to fall. Lowered her down gently, despite knowing how she had betrayed him. Not him, the state. Betrayed the state. Personal feelings had no place in this.

“Keep fighting.”

“Fuck you,” said Castiel. It felt near blasphemous to say so, but if nothing else it made Castiel feel slightly better.

*************


	2. the thing with feathers (part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the rest of the last chapter. Sorry I'm having technical issues.

DECEMBER 12, 110 A.L. - 30 MILES OUTSIDE INVIDIA

Castiel came to and found that Charlie was sitting at his side in a tent. He was laid out on a sleeping bag that was made of military grade material and told Castiel that it was likely they rarely used Camp Jefferson Starship with the exception of when they needed new recruits. If they had a place to stay with real beds, they wouldn't have invested in such nice sleeping bags.

“You’re awake,” Charlie said, smiling down at him.

“Was there question of that eventually being the case?” Cas asked, sitting up and taking stock of himself as soon as he was sure he wouldn’t fall back down from the head rush. Everything seemed to be in working order.

“Of course not,” scoffed Charlie. “If they were going to kill you, trust me I wouldn’t be involved. We’re friends. Besides, Crookshanks missed you.”

As if on cue, the small grey cat nudged aside the flap that sectioned off this portion of the tent from a main area and made a beeline for Castiel before once again climbing on top of him and promptly going to sleep. Castiel stared down at the curious thing and then looked at Charlie for help.

“I can see that,” he said, petting the creature absentmindedly while trying to find ways to ask about his current situation. “And I am-“

“We’re close to Invidia,” Charlie supplied. Castiel jerked enough to startle Crookshanks from his lap, and Charlie held up her hands to calm him. “Look things are heating up. We needed to move quickly.”

It took a moment for the words to settle and for Castiel to be able to do anything with them, because he was now much farther from Superbia than he had planned to be. It might take two or three days travel to get back while still avoiding state forces. Which meant it was likely he had been unconscious that long. That, or Charlie and Jo had found some sort of identification papers that meant they could travel on the main roads.

“How long have I been out?” Castiel asked carefully.

“Sixteen hours,” said Charlie. “We have papers for emergency use only. It’s how we got here so quickly.”

Castiel mulled that over in his head. The urgency suggested to him several things. The first thing he suspected was that this move was planned, but had been scheduled for a later date. If that was true, Dean hadn’t been trying to throw him off guard by making it seem as though he would be returning to Camp Jefferson Starship. If a scheduled change in location was moved up, Castiel had to suspect it had something to do with the uprising in Libidine. But if this was a continuation of an aggressive campaign against the state, Invidia was probably their worst choice to attack. It was one of the few cities that rarely needed an influx of state police support for the simple fact almost everyone who lived there was as loyal and devoted as one could reasonably hope to be. Putting aside his confusion over the reason for the move however, Castiel could put what Charlie and Jo had asked of him in a different context. If Dean had thought he’d have more time to determine where Castiel’s loyalties lay before moving, then he would be hesitant to let Castiel in on the fact that they were moving to Invidia in case he made some attempt to communicate this to Naomi before he left. In addition, he had to ensure that there was a level of trust and dedication to the resistance on Castiel’s part.

In other words, Castiel had been knocked out all for the sake of a test. He hoped to God he passed considering he really did not enjoy being rendered unconscious and unable to defend himself.

“Why?” Castiel asked, not wanting to let Charlie into his thoughts. “Invidia’s population is one of the most well regulated in the state. An average citizen might shoot you on sight.”

“Superbia’s about to be crawling with… other yous,” Charlie said, not necessarily as a compliment Castiel supposed. “I assume you know what happened.”

“One of the seven cities is no longer under state control,” Castiel confirmed.

“Yeah, well let’s just say that although that’s good news, it’s making everyone twitchy. Besides the resistance is in bad shape around Invidia for obvious reasons, and intelligence reports indicate city leadership might be gearing up to try to take out what’s left of them,” said Charlie. She wrinkled her nose in disgust as she continued. “And the methods they suggested to do so weren’t pleasant.”

“And we’re currently staying with them?” Castiel asked. Charlie made a face.

“It’s complicated, in the ‘I don’t need your damn help, Dean Winchester’ kind of way,” she said, inexpertly lowering her voice and putting on an accent to imitate somebody that Castiel didn’t know. “We’re close, but not intruding. They know we’re here, but they’re ignoring us for the moment. Once shit hits the fan, they won’t say no to backup though.”

“Shouldn’t strategy come before pride?”

“You’d think,” Charlie muttered while stroking Crookshanks, who had migrated to her lap. Wise decision, Castiel thought to the cat. Charlie was less likely to accidentally dislodge the animal. “So I have boring computer stuff to do today. Why don’t you stretch your legs? Jo said she’d be willing to take you around.”

Because no one trusts you, Castiel thought to himself.

“I’m sure I can manage by myself,” Castiel said. He stood up, overbalancing slightly and swaying before righting himself. Charlie looked at him funny and Castiel did his best to look as unaffected by the sedative as he could. She didn’t look like she bought it.

“Are you sure?” asked Charlie. “I think it would be good, in case anything goes wrong, that you have a friendly face around. And… Jo and I are kinda it for that sort of thing.”

That caused Castiel to pause. So not distrust then. Concern. This time when responding, Castiel made sure to meet Charlie’s eyes and do his best to reassure her. If nothing else he was rather… touched that she wanted to make sure he wasn’t killed by one of her peers.

“I’ll be fine,” said Castiel. “Really.”

Charlie nodded and then took Crookshanks off her lap before standing up and showing Castiel where the exit was. She sent him off with a wave and smile before retreating to the part of the tent she had set aside for her various toys and computers. Castiel was glad not to have to spend another day watching her do incomprehensible work with her machines. Castiel wasn’t lying when he said he believed Charlie to be the resistance’s greatest asset. The amount of classified information she was privy to was quite frankly terrifying.

So instead of staring in confused disbelief at the magic Charlie was able to do with a computer, he was able to get a lay of the land in his new environment. Unlike at Camp Jefferson Starship, every structure here was impermanent and easy to move quickly. Castiel suspected from size of the tents that the layout put the more important people in the camp close to the center. However, it was clear almost immediately as Castiel began a meandering walk through the camp that the priority of the defenses was making sure the children here were safe.

At CJS, Castiel had not caught sight of anyone under the age of eighteen the entire time he had been there. Now, he had already spotted a few of them playing in a small area that had clearly been set aside for them. Dean’s test was beginning to make even more sense. He hadn’t wanted Castiel anywhere near the resistance’s more vulnerable members. The lack of walls here made separating Castiel from any possible contact with them impossible.

Castiel ignored the glares he got as he walked past the kids, but he made sure to walk slowly and not in any way acknowledge that he saw them. He wouldn’t be surprised if the only rumor that had managed to spread about him here was that he was ordered to shoot children once.

He obviously had some work to do on his reputation.

Castiel made his way to the edge of the camp and then walked the perimeter, making note of where lookouts were posted and of the procedure that was used when they switched shifts. By the time he had finished the perimeter it was nearing noon, and he decided to amble his way back to Charlie’s tent and hope she hadn’t been called away and could show him where to get food. It was while he was doing this that he caught sight of a woman knelt in prayer.

Castiel stopped walking and watched the woman in fascination. Public displays of faith were discouraged as a member of the state’s police force, though private citizens were allowed to do as they pleased. The resistance had a reputation of being less than tolerant, however, on this issue and several others. Castiel had suspected this stereotype of the resistance holding backwards opinions on religion, race, and other matters had been tested when Castiel had realized that Charlie exclusively slept with women and no one seemed to care. He was glad to see this was the case, as it was one of the things he had always found most distasteful when he and his fellow soldiers had discussed the resistance.

Then again, where had those rumors come from? Knowing now that Anna had lied to him was making Castiel paranoid, and it slowly began to occur to him that perhaps the state encouraged such perceptions. It fit into a narrative in which the resistance were holding back the state from enjoying the Age of Light.

“Can I help you?” the woman asked, not without a certain amount of malice. Castiel started, and realized he had been staring. She stood not five feet from him now, and in the detached manner of someone who knows they are in danger of disembowelment Castiel noted that her hijab was a dark green that matched the hilt of the knife that was held casually in her hand. He met her eyes and turned his palms forward to show they were empty.

“I saw you praying,” he said earnestly. “It’s… rare to meet someone of faith in my line of work. The state didn’t exactly encourage… My apologies if I upset you.”

The woman looked taken aback by his reasoning, and her face lit up with a smile for a moment before she looked more guarded.

“Are you Muslim?” she asked. Castiel shook his head.

“Christian,” he said.

“I see,” she said with a nod. “Sam and Kubrick are too, if you want to speak to them. I’m sure they will be glad to talk to you about it.”

“Maybe another time,” Castiel said. “At the moment I’m talking to you. It would be rude, I think, to leave. Besides… I have no idea where to go to eat.”

Something like amusement crosses the woman’s face, and she puts her knife away before closing the distance between her and Castiel and offering her hand.

“Selma Asfour,” she said. Castiel shook it and smiled slightly at her grip. “And you’re the spy.”

“I prefer Castiel actually,” he said, causing another brief smile to light up Selma’s face.

“No last name?” she said, matching his tone with ease. Castiel could see that underneath her easy humor, she had a certainty about her that made him quite sure that should he prove to be a threat she would be ready to face him in an instant. It was a quality he found reassuring if only because it reminded him of the soldiers in his garrison.

“As a soldier I am a servant of the state,” Castiel recited. “Family loyalty hinders objectivity in enforcing the law. So in other words, no, no last name. My mother requested I continue to be raised Christian and that was the extent of her influence on my life after the aptitude tests.”

“That… is incredibly sad,” said Selma. Castiel didn’t know what to say to that, so he said nothing and the two walked in silence to a tent that was quite large and definitely smelled like something edible was being made inside. Something palatable even, which wasn’t always guaranteed. Castiel wasn’t one to complain considering what some of the rations had been for his garrison, but at the least the worst of what he had to eat was merely tasteless back then. He suspected based on the awful taste some of the food that he had eaten the last time he was staying with the resistance that whoever was supplying the resistance didn’t much care whether the food was enjoyed.

Castiel joined the queue to eat behind Selma and took a bowl of soup and the bread that was offered. He was surprised when he got he had finished getting his food to find Selma was standing there waiting for him.

“Would you like to sit with me?” Selma asked when she saw Castiel had noticed her.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Would you like to sit with me?” Selma repeated, undeterred. She waited as Castiel sized up her intention and smiled again when he nodded slightly.

“Thank you,” he said to her, unable to help feeling a degree of warmth for her willingness to show him kindness despite her misgivings.

Despite the fact that she had every right to distrust him and was completely justified in doing so.

“Cordy, Jess!” Selma called out, making her way to one of the tables in the tent. Castiel did a double take when he saw both of the twins turn in unison to look at Selma. They narrowed their eyes at him in almost uncanny synchronization as they attempted to figure out why Selma might be dragging the spy behind her.

“Hello,” Castiel said, looking between the two of them. “I’m Castiel.”

“We know,” said the one on the right. Her sister elbowed her and glanced at Selma before painting a friendly smile on her face.

“I’m Jessica Moore,” she said, indicating a chair he could take on one side of her. Castiel sat down gratefully and Selma sat on the other side of him. “And this sack of grumpy is Cordelia.”

“I’m not grumpy,” said the disgruntled blonde, glaring at her twin in mild betrayal. “Am I the only one who remembers who this creep is? No offense, or anything.”

“It’s fine,” Castiel said, staring down into his soup, lips twitching in mild amusement.

“Would it kill you to be nice?” Jessica stage whispered to her twin.

“To a state soldier. It might,” Cordelia pointed out. “Just saying.”

Selma managed to silence her with a look, and Cordelia huffed in annoyance and started picking at her own bowl of soup. While she did so, two more people sat down at the table and Castiel looked up to see Benny LaFitte sat in the chair opposite him with another man sat next to him. Benny made a disgruntled expression when he realized who Castiel was.

“Who invited him?”

“I did,” said Selma. “Sir.”

Benny rolled his eyes at the obvious sarcasm in her tone. He pointed a fork at her while feigning a disapproving frown. Selma raised an eyebrow and after a moment Benny cracked a smile and then focused on his meal, tearing up his bread so he could dip it in his soup.

“So I’m assuming you know Benny,” Selma said to Castiel casually. “And then he’s Boris.”

Boris barely glanced at Castiel before seeming to move on with his life. Castiel was fairly certain he heard Boris ask Cordelia if she had anything to drink and watched in shocked fascination as Cordelia passed a flask to him. Even more surprising was that no one else at the table even looked worried about the behavior. Benny noticed his horror and smirked at it before apparently deciding to poke fun at him.

“Has the state outlawed alcohol since I left?” he asked. “You look positively scandalized, chief.”

“It’s noon,” Castiel said, unable to help himself. Boris took an extra long swig from the flask at this and then passed it back to Cordelia nonchalantly.

“Better to drink at noon than to break our fearless leader’s nose,” said Boris. “At least drinking is a nonviolent coping mechanism to despair.”

“To be fair, Dean deserved that,” said a familiar and very welcome voice. Jo pushed her bowl of soup down next to Benny’s and plopped herself down in the seat, leaving only one chair at the table empty. “He was pretty much baiting Cas here. Ain’t that right?”

Six sets of eyes were now fastened on Castiel’s face. He found himself fumbling with his spoon before firmly reminding himself to get his act together.

“Dean was trying to get an emotional reaction out of me,” Castiel acknowledged slowly. “But I admit my actions were… rash.”

“Please, you guys should have seen it,” Jo said, easily taking over the conversation. She told the story of what had happened, offering background of Anna’s death after asking Cas for permission to share which Castiel granted with a nod of his head. By the time she was finished telling the story, Castiel noticed that the atmosphere had noticeably changed. Jo had by, as far as Castiel could tell, sheer personality alone managed to reframe the events that surrounded Castiel being here enough to encourage empathy within the people around him.

He could see why she was the one who was sent to recruit people. She was incredibly charismatic when she wanted to be. Jo was busy imitating the face that Dean had made when Castiel had ‘lunged forward and punched him before going back to his weird soldier position’, and causing the entire table to crack up, including Castiel himself, loathe as he was to admit it.

“What’s so funny here?”

At the sound of Dean’s voice and the sound of him landing with a thump in the final seat at the table had Castiel immediately looking away. If he had ever punched Naomi and had the nerve to bring it up again, he was certain he would be a dead man. He wasn’t entirely sure how Dean would react, but he didn’t think laughing at Jo’s dramatic re-enactment of the event would win him any favors.

“I was just reminiscing about that time Cas punched your lights out.”

“I didn’t lose consciousness,” Dean corrected instantly, though he mostly seemed to be taking it in stride. “But I did have a nose bleed for, like, two days, so thanks for that Cas.”

“It was no trouble,” Castiel said before he could think better of it, causing Jo to snort soup out of her nose. Cas could feel Selma shaking with silent laughter next to him and he spared a brief smile with her before turning back to face the table at large with a more serious expression.

“Alright, settle down. You guys can laugh at my expense later,” said Dean, quieting everyone with a wave of his hands, making it clear he had actual business he meant to deal with. “So Benny, I had Charlie looking into just what kind of bullshit Zachariah could pull when they go after Bobby’s people and I think we’re going to need the twins.”

Jessica and Cordelia looked at each other, wicked smiles crossing their faces.

“You mean we get to-“ said Cordelia with almost indecent excitement.

“Blow shit up?” Dean finished for her, looking for all the world a little afraid. “God help me, but yes.”

“This is going to be so fun,” said Jessica, grinning wide. Dean looked between the two of them and then shook his head and lifted his hands up, as though prematurely cleansing himself of the consequences that might arise from this.

“Excited as I am to see what these girls come up with,” Benny said, cutting into the conversation. “Am I going to be two more people down for the foreseeable future?”

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” said Dean nodding between spoonfuls of soup. “I know Dr. Newman still hasn’t cleared Tricia or Carl yet, so you’re way down on man power right now. I was thinking of moving over Corbett from Risa’s section and Lydia-“

“Corbett’s useless in the field,” Benny interrupted. “And Lydia hates me.”

“Lydia hates everyone,” Dean reasoned. Benny made a grudging grunt of agreement, while everyone else remained suspiciously silent on the matter. Castiel gathered that this Lydia was for some reason or another, a touchy subject. “And would you rather I move Kubrick?”

Apparently Kubrick, whoever he was (Castiel remembered Selma had mentioned he was one of the few other Christians in camp), was worse than this Lydia because Benny instantly took a different tone.

“Lydia will do fine,” he said, and Dean nodded gratefully before Benny continued. “But I’m not taking Corbett. Risa says she can train him up? Great. I personally think he’s a lost cause.”

Castiel was interested in the way Dean’s mouth tightened at this and he looked as though he wanted to reprimand his friend for the evaluation. He looked like he even might work himself up to do it before Selma spoke up again, drawing Dean’s attention.

“Castiel could fill in,” she said. Everyone at the table stared at her. She crossed her arms defensively in response. “What? He’s not doing anything else as far as I can tell.”

Castiel caught the small smirk Jo allowed herself before she schooled her expression.

“True,” Jo said. “I mean, I feel bad for Cas having to sit around all day and hear Charlie gossip.”

Something flickered in Dean’s expression.

“You never know what she might say,” Jo finished.

“Fine,” said Dean. He looked Selma right in the eye, and focused the full force of his attention on her. She seemed to instantly straighten under his attention, and Castiel wondered what it would be like to have such a gravity about you that people sat up and took notice when you did something as small as look at them. It was an important quality to have in a leader, he thought. Anna had been very similar, though she had used her powers of persuasion more subtly.

Stop thinking about Anna, Castiel chided himself. He focused back in on what was being said.

“…your responsibility. Think you can handle that?” Dean finished. Selma nodded seriously, conveying utter confidence in her ability to deliver whatever Dean had asked of her. Castiel wished he had been paying attention to what exactly Dean thought he was going to get up to that was so troublesome. Then again, it didn’t really matter. He had, by some strange luck, stumbled into exactly what he needed. A new friend and a job that would make it easier to meet more people and gain their trust. His mission was progressing well, and he was glad for it.

He did perhaps feel poorly for Selma, though he tried not to focus on that.

Dean was the first of everyone to leave, dragging the twins behind him. Jo and Benny also hastened to follow him, and Boris cleared out within the next five minutes. After this, only Castiel and Selma were left sitting at the table.

“Thank you,” Castiel said, feeling slightly uncomfortable with the sudden silence. “For… Thank you.”

“It was selfish of me really,” Selma said, standing up and offering a hand to help Castiel up from his chair too. “I thought it would be nice to have someone around that doesn’t make fun of me for praying five times a day. I know they don’t mean to say my faith is a waste of time, but…”

She shrugged, and Castiel followed her as she walked out.

“I understand,” said Castiel. “It took me six years with my garrison to shed several nicknames. They were meant affectionately, probably, but… there’s only so many times you can be called choir boy before you feel justified flushing a fellow soldier’s rations down a toilet.”

Selma’s laughter was bright and easy, and despite himself Castiel found that he enjoyed it immensely.

“Uriel didn’t find it that funny.”

DECEMBER 17, 110 A.L. - 30 MILES OUTSIDE INVIDIA

Working under Benny had proven to be an interesting experience. It was evident from the start that Benny neither liked nor trusted Castiel, and had every intention of making that known. However, despite these sincere intentions of making Castiel’s life difficult, he had not been able to follow through as effectively as he might have and the sole reason of this was one Lydia Mann.

Specifically, it was the fact that Lydia somehow had the enviable power of driving Benny up the wall without breaking a sweat. It truly was an impressive feat to behold. She could portray insolence with a twitch of her eyebrows, and every smile she aimed at him seemed to be a different flavor of ‘fuck you’. Castiel was truly in awe of her prowess. He would attempt to emulate her when he was assigned latrine duty for the third time in a row, but he truly didn’t think he could compete with such a compelling performance.

And in case, Benny started taking it easy on him when he realized that Selma, who Benny actually liked, had to do everything that Castiel did.

Then again, there were times when even his affection for Selma couldn’t break through the fact he was still indignant about Castiel punching Dean (one time, Castiel thought to himself tiredly) and wanted to reassure Castiel, in case he had forgotten, just how much he disliked him.

“I think perhaps I hate him,” Castiel said to Selma solemnly as they washed laundry, a job she had informed him was not even supposed to be handled by their segment of the camp during this rotation. “No, I’m certain. I hate him.”

“This isn’t so bad,” said Selma, dismissively. That was before she picked up a pair of boxers with a suspicious white stain on them and then promptly dropped them and wrinkled her nose in disgust. “I’ve changed my mind. I hate him too.”

Castiel picked up the boxers and began to wash them, waving off the thanks Selma offered to him. The two went back to work quietly, letting the minutes pass by in a kind of quiet companionship. It was equal parts comforting and agonizing for Castiel because the more time he spent with Selma, the more he found he genuinely enjoyed her company. It was hard to keep the distance Naomi had warned him he would need to keep, and he struggled with it most in the quiet moments when there were no words to lie with or decisions to distract himself with.

For better or worse then, the quiet didn’t last long.

“How are my two favorite punching bags doing today?” said Jo, waltzing into the area set aside for washing and making herself at home in a dry spot of grass near the two of them.

“Did you come here for a reason, Jo?” Castiel asked dryly, eyebrows raised as he reached for another article of clothing to wash. Jo frowned at him, playing hurt.

“No fair, Cas,” she said, eyes wide with false pain. “I was your friend first.”

“If you want to take my place as fellow punching bag,” Selma said. “I am more than willing to trade.”

Jo grinned and shook her head.

“You can have him,” she said. “For now at least. Tomorrow night, Cas is all mine.”

Castiel had a feeling by the way Selma started grinning at the words that she understood something he didn’t.

“I have many questions,” Castiel started, in an attempt to clear his confusion. “The first is when I became property-“

“Shut up, you sarcastic bastard,” said Jo. “Just so you know, I had to do a lot of favors for Charlie to get this, okay? Like a lot of favors-“

“What a burden for you,” Selma said, eyes twinkling mischievously. Jo turned bright red and Castiel tried to puzzle out why that might be, but was distracted when Jo responded to Selma’s teasing with a rejoinder of her own.

“How’s Risa doing by the way?”

Selma responded by stuttering incoherently and then tossing one of the unwashed pieces of clothing at Jo’s head. She dodged it with a smile and went on talking.

“Dean has been instructed to give Benny’s section the night off tomorrow,” Jo said happily. “And as an object of rumors and general fascination, Castiel, you are going to be the center of attention. Something I happen to enjoy and plan to take advantage of. How’s your poker face?”

Castiel stared at Jo impassively.

“That’ll work,” she said with a grin.

“If I’m understanding this correctly,” Castiel said. “There’s going to be some kind of celebration tomorrow.”

“Yeah. You might have fun and everything,” said Jo seriously. “Selma’s excited for it, aren’t you Selma?”

“Oh yes,” she said. “I very much enjoy watching the rest of you make poor life decisions while intoxicated. It helps me to shore up my self esteem. Whenever I feel as though I have gone wrong in life, I can at least remember that I never proclaimed myself king of the forest and attempted to bite a tree.”

Jo burst out laughing.

“Benny,” she said to Castiel at his questioning look. “But you didn’t hear that from us.”

Castiel filed the information away for future use. The future came more quickly than he expected it would.

That night Benny still seemed to be in an incredibly bad mood and determined to take it out on Castiel. So, despite the fact Castiel was almost certain it was Lizzie and Boris’ turn to take to wash dishes that evening, somehow Castiel and Selma had been assigned.

“You can’t be serious,” Castiel said, unable to help himself. Perhaps he had grown too used to Anna’s fair hand in the ten years he served under her (Don’t think about Anna). Perhaps he had reached his breaking point when it came to dealing with irritation. Despite striking others as calm, Castiel had never been as patient as he let people believe and if you knew him long enough you would know he had a temper if pushed.

“You got a problem with that, princess?” Benny had asked.

“While I understand the king of the forest outranks me-“ Castiel had began, intent on delivering a scathing speech that was cut off by an outburst of laughter on all sides and Benny’s somewhat mortified expression. He glared at his men, who were now attempting to stifle themselves under his stern gaze.

“If I ever find out who told soldier boy that,” he said slowly. “They are the ones who are getting bitten next. All of you understand me?”

A resounding ‘yes sir’ came back at him. Castiel and Selma were then sent off, the only adjustment to Benny’s original order that he kindly asked Selma that Castiel do all the work himself. He had a sinking feeling she was going to take Benny up on that.

“That was petty,” she told him, as they walked. “And I thought you might save that story for more than a few hours.”

As Castiel suspected, Selma mysteriously found herself unable to help him that night. He supposed he deserved it for so quickly wasting the ammunition she had given to him. Oh well. He still thought it was worth the look on Benny LaFitte’s face.

Perhaps Selma did too, if the grin playing on the edge of her mouth the entire evening was anything to go by.

DECEMBER 18, 110 A.L. - 30 MILES OUTSIDE INVIDIA

Since Dean had decided, based off of intelligence provided by the other resistance camp and Charlie that Invidia was still gathering itself in preparation for an attack, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to let the men and women in camp “cut loose” before things started heating up again. He had spent a great deal of his time with Charlie recently, supposedly in communication with the people who had taken over Libidine. Although Libidine was the city with the most unrest among the citizens, Castiel had a feeling that those that had taken over there found it more unruly to “liberate” than they had probably initially expected. He couldn’t find anything else that could account for the bad mood Dean and Charlie had been in recently. Whatever was going on, and Castiel had heard a great deal of speculation from the the people in Benny’s section, it wasn’t sitting right with Dean.

Billie was not with them at the moment either, which also seemed to be making the Winchesters and Charlie jumpy. If what Naomi had said to Castiel was true, he suspected it was because they were uncertain of her loyalties. Castiel was grateful for her absence monopolizing their suspicion so he wasn’t under the same kind of scrutiny he might have been otherwise. In fact, he was almost being ignored at the moment. Perhaps they all figured there simply wasn’t much harm he could do miles from Superbia and with the only reliable form of communication available unusable (unless your name was Charlie Bradbury).

So what had originally been a night off for Benny’s section only (as requested by Charlie, who could apparently get pretty much anything she wanted if she tried hard enough) had transformed into a larger event with half of the camp taking the day off on the eighteenth and the rest doing so on the twenty first. Dean had also been sure to clarify, unless anyone tried to “pull a fast one” that these days off counted as “everybody’s time to celebrate any shitty winter holidays” and not to “ask for more goddamn time off” afterwards.

Castiel was glad that they were expanding the event so he could observe more of the camp’s key leaders. He had a good sense for who Benny LaFitte was now, and further knew weaknesses of his that could be reported back to Naomi. Namely, that he was loyal to Dean Winchester above all else, including Sam and Charlie, and that he had a cousin Lizzy that he seemed fond of. He was also prideful and tended to overestimate his skill. This weakness was unfortunately matched with an ability to improvise and a strong will, but under stress he would make a less formidable opponent and leader.

For the time being, however, Castiel has the day off and evening festivities don’t begin until much later. He has decided to take advantage of this fact by being as far away from everyone as possible.

Not that he doesn’t enjoy Selma and Jo’s company. If anything that’s part of the problem. In the two months Castiel had spent on his own after Anna’s death, a small part of what had driven his utter misery was that he had been separated from his garrison. Companionship was something he found himself craving and responding to, and while it was part of his mission to do so, he couldn’t help but feel as though he were using the friends he was making. He was, of course, but he still didn’t like the well of guilt that was taking root in his mind or that it would make itself known at the most inconvenient of times.

So Castiel decided when he woke up on the morning of his day off that he wouldn’t get up. All day. In fact, perhaps he would sleep more or just lie with his eyes open staring at the top of the tent. Both of these were preferable to facing the growing and unwelcome guilt he had inside him.

Unfortunately, Crookshanks ruined this plan by luring Charlie into Castiel’s part of the tent. Castiel should have tried to shoo the creature away when it attempted to wake him up by pawing at his face, but instead he had let it rest next to him and begun to pet it. He only did so because it seemed less effort than getting up and making the cat go away, but Castiel knew Charlie would tease him for it anyway.

“Why are you still in bed?” she said, eyebrows raised.

“This is a sleeping bag.”

“Why are you still in your sleeping bag?” Charlie tried again, sitting cross legged next to Crookshanks. “Haven’t you heard? You’re a free man for the next twelve hours.”

“Then I’m free to stay here and sleep,” Castiel pointed out. Charlie made an exasperated noise at this assertion, but seemed to believe Castiel that he had no plans to move. Then she glanced at her cat and her face lit up in a way that told Castiel she had had an idea. He suspected he wouldn’t like said idea.

“Stay right there,” she said, bouncing up and exiting through the tent flap. Castiel didn’t have to wait even a minute before she was back with a book in her hands. She grinned and showed it to him. It was black with silver lettering and very old. The pages were yellowing and the binding seems delicate, so it wasn’t one of the state’s reprints. Castiel frowned at it and then glanced at Charlie.

“I’ve never heard of Harry Potter. What has he done to earn a biography?” Castiel asked. Charlie’s grin if anything grew wider.

“This is my favorite book,” she said excitedly. “Well… Okay I have a tier of favorites. But this one is a permanent member of that tier.”

“His life must be quite fascinating,” Castiel said, mostly to be polite. He thought reading was fine, really. He even partook in a book on occasion, though he mostly listened to what Hael had learned. He personally enjoyed her enthusiasm more than he enjoyed dry words on pages about the lives of people he would never meet. Or cultures he would never get to experience. The only time he had been able to find any interest for the information was when Hael made it her duty to impart every piece of information she had gleaned in as short a time as possible. He and Remiel were the only ones that would actually listen to her, and Hael had always seemed quietly happy about it.

Castiel wondered what Hael and Remiel were doing right now. He wondered who had been put in charge of the garrison. With him and Anna gone, he supposed the position should go to Uriel, but secretly he hoped Balthazar had been put in charge. Then again, that was mostly for petty reasons, and the fact that Castiel liked Balthazar better.

Castiel had begun to smile thinking about his garrison, remembering things he had kept distant for so long. It was nice until her remembered exactly why he’d kept thoughts of them far from his mind.

One of them shot Anna. He didn’t know who, but it had to be one of them.

“Cas?” Charlie said, breaking into his thoughts. “Earth to Cas.”

“I’m sorry,” said Castiel, once again paying attention to Charlie. “What were you saying?”

Charlie looked ready to ask him where his mind had gone, but ultimately her excitement to share her book came flooding back to her face and she began speaking at a rate Castiel found almost impossible to follow.

“It’s the story of a boy wizard that has two friends and they’re also wizards and they’re going to a school with magic, and they’re shapeshifters and werewolves and hippogriffs and-“

“So this is a biography of a lunatic?” Castiel broke in, frowning at her words. “Those are mythological creatures. And this does not appear to be a religious text, so it must be-”

“No,” Charlie said, letting out a long breath. “It’s not a biography, Cas.”

“Well, it doesn’t sound like an informational book,” Castiel said. “Or an encyclopedia. It doesn’t sound like any book I’ve heard- Oh.”

“You get it now?” Charlie said, eyebrows raised.

“Fictional books are unlawful,” Castiel recited immediately. “They offer falsehoods as a distraction from duty to the state and have no educational value.”

“Spoken like a true brainwashed robot,” Charlie said, sounding disappointed. “C’mon Cas. You’re don’t have to be Mr. Soldier anymore. At least not when you’re with us. Break a few rules. Rebel a little.”

“Where did you even get that?” Castiel asked, avoiding Charlie’s eyes as he spoke. “The state purged the seven cities of these kinds of books.”

“Yeah, well,” Charlie said, sounding incredibly put out at this point. “Dean and Sam like to read. So we’re encouraged to trade for books when we can.”

“Trade?” Castiel asked, having not thought about exactly how the camps kept running before. Charlie nodded.

“Yeah. Not in the cities or anything, but half of the state’s population live in rural areas, and there’s not much oversight. We have a pretty decent selection of books, actually,” said Charlie with a smile. “And you’re going to read this if I have to tie you to a chair and read it to you.”

“I implore you to try,” Castiel said. Charlie rolled her eyes and then opened the book, taking care with it so as not to damage it.

“If you don’t like it, you can always leave,” Charlie pointed out. When Castiel sat up, she picked Crookshanks up and dumped the cat on his lap so he couldn’t get up. She gave him a smug smile when he relented because he didn’t want the cat to spend the next three days meowing mournfully at him for moving her.

“Is it really that important to you?” Castiel asked, surprised by her insistence. Charlie nodded, face instantly somber. It was true, Castiel supposed, that he didn’t have anything else to do for the day. And hearing one false story wasn’t going to kill him. It might also help to convince the two Winchester brothers that he was assimilating if Charlie were to share it with them, while his refusal would raise alarms in their minds. His decision was made. “I suppose if you insist.”

“Yeah, I do,” said Charlie, excitement ratcheting back up in the time it took for Castiel to blink. Charlie shifted in order to make herself comfortable and went through no small amount of ceremony to find her place on the page and prepare to begin reading, which Castiel knew was Charlie being dramatic for his benefit. “Harry Potter was a highly unusual boy in many ways…”

Castiel let the words wash over him as Charlie continued reading. Her voice was soothing and well measured. She didn’t stumble over any of the words and she adopted different voices for the different characters. There was something so calming about being read to that Castiel had never expected. It spoke to the same part of him that enjoyed praying. It felt like… being looked after.

It took him a while to actually understand the story. It was written much differently than anything he had ever read, and many more details were important for understanding the overall message than in any of the biographies he had read. He had to stop Charlie several chapters in so she could summarize what he was supposed to have retained. Despite himself, once he began to understand what was happening he was drawn more into the story. He liked the primary characters, especially Hermione who reminded him strongly of Hannah from his garrison. He shared this fact with Charlie halfway through the book, and wished he hadn’t after the high pitched noises she made. They were sounds of joy, she had assured him.

It was afternoon when Charlie finished reading to him, and asked him what he thought of it. Castiel frowned and thought about it while Charlie waited for his opinion. He still felt vaguely as though he had done something wrong, and he wasn’t sure if actually contemplating the meaning was a worse offense than merely listening or if he had already thoroughly broken the law and might as well continue to go along with it.

He figured the latter made more sense. Besides, Charlie was waiting for him to answer and he did have thoughts on the story.

“I… I liked what it had to say about perception as opposed to one’s true nature,” Castiel said hesitantly. “That not everyone is who they appear to be. Or that the worst everyone sees of us is not who we truly are. Then again, there are those of us that are held in high regards… and are nothing but cowards.”

“Huh,” said Charlie, frowning in consideration. “Never thought of it like that. For me it’s always been about… not being afraid anymore. Or realizing fear’s just another emotion, it’s not you. Being brave is about knowing fear and saying you just don’t care anymore. And finding family. I’ve always liked that part too.”

Charlie trailed off at the end, looking pensive.

“Your cat’s name makes more sense now,” Castiel offered to break the weighty silence. Charlie grinned and nodded.

“I was hoping you would notice,” she said. “So, are you over your whole ‘books are bad’ thing, or-“

“It was an experience,” Castiel allowed.

“I’ll take it. Besides, you already get what’s good about stories like this.”

“What’s that?”

“Seeing something you recognize and empathizing with it,” said Charlie. She stretched after she said it and then her stomach growled. “Hey dude, do you want to eat something? I’m starving.”

“Certainly,” Castiel said, though his mind was still on Charlie’s response to his question. He couldn’t really understand why the state would ban something so seemingly harmless. Then again, perhaps some books weren’t as wholesome as this one, and used likable characters to promote unsavory messages. Yes, he could see how that could be an issue.

But why throw every book on the fire when only some of them would be offenders in this regard?

Castiel decided he couldn’t make sense of it, and since it wasn’t relevant to his mission there was no reason to put as much mental energy towards it as he was.

They had missed lunch, but there was still some spare vegetables in the tent designating for food. Charlie explained there were sympathetic farmers nearby who had been willing to send food in exchange for some of the explosives Cordelia and Jessica were working on that “weren’t powerful enough”. When Castiel asked why they would need explosives, Charlie shrugged and said they hadn’t asked which was the most concerning thing Castiel had heard all day. Though Charlie had reassured him that Robert Cain had a longstanding trade relationship with Bobby and there hadn’t been problems yet.

Castiel wanted to ask more questions about who else exactly they were giving dangerous weapons to, but Charlie cut him off to continue their discussion of the book earlier.

“So…” she said, looking at him with careful consideration. “Do you think you’re more loyal or cunning?”

“Why?” asked Castiel, brow furrowed. Charlie did her best to look innocent.

“No reason. Just answer the question,” she said. Castiel was still trying to figure out how to answer when he was saved by Jo, who had probably seen them walking to the food tent and followed them in.

“You don’t have to answer that,” she said. “Charlie’s a crazy person.”

“Quit ruining my fun, Jo,” said Charlie with a pout. It cleared up soon enough, though. “So what have you been up to all day?”

“Making sure the newbies are settled in,” said Jo. “I was going to check in on Cas, but I hadn’t seen him around until now. Shoulda known you were trying to indoctrinate him into liking that damn book.”

“You’re just mad because I’m right about you being a Hufflepuff,” said Charlie huffily. Jo rolled her eyes. “But how are the newbies? Settling in?”

“They’re fine mostly,” said Jo, biting into a carrot she had likely taken from one of the baskets set up on the tables that were designated for serving food. She made noisy crunching sounds as she chewed and barely paused to swallow before she started talking again. “Leslie seems to be fitting in fine, and Benny’s been pretty good about being welcoming. Meg and Jenny don’t really like taking orders, but they’re dealing. David’s settling in, but he’s still pretty anxious about Emily and Nora being safe here.”

“The family thing isn’t easy,” Charlie agreed. “Nora gets along with Dr. Newman’s kid, though right?”

“Yeah, they make a lot of trouble,” Jo said with a smile. “Though that’s nothing compared to Aditi and… and, uh, Tony.”

“Right,” Charlie said, having jerked slightly when Jo had been talking and glancing at Cas for a moment. “Those two.”

Castiel tried not to feel hurt at how self conscious they both were talking in front of him now. He had nothing but ill intent when it came to their cause and he deserved every bit of suspicion they had for him. Still, they couldn’t honestly think he was just going to attack the children in camp.

“So,” Jo said in a not entirely natural attempt to change topics. “Tonight should be fun. I hear we might even get a Winchester appearance.”

“Sam’s going?” Charlie asked. “Tamara must be pissed. She doesn’t have tonight off.”

“Like Sam can’t take both days off if he wants,” Jo pointed off. “Besides, Jess is off tonight. Tamara gets it.”

“Gets what?” Castiel asked, feeling lost. Whatever this was, it wasn’t something Selma had brought up.

“It’s a sobriety thing,” Charlie explained, though the way she said it made it seem like there was a lot more to that story than she was letting on. “Jess and Sam look out for each other.”

“Oh,” said Castiel, thinking of Jessica’s twin Cordelia casually drinking at a midday meal. “I was under the impression alcoholism was… ignored here.”

“Yeah, alcohol wasn’t the problem,” said Jo, leaving Castiel to wonder what exactly was. Nothing good if her grim expression was anything to go by. “But enough of that. Tonight is going to be a blast. Boris and Harriet helped Kali fix some furniture that was broken last time they drove with me into Superbia and that woman is a goddess when it comes to paying back favors.”

“So she gave us booze you can actually swallow this time?” Charlie asked. “What a saint.”

“Don’t be a baby,” said Jo. “And don’t pretend you won’t drink more than your fair share anyway.”

“I have to uphold my reputation.”

“Your reputation as a light weight?” asked Jo, jumping up to dodge Charlie’s attempt to smack her arm. Jo grinned in triumph. “I’ll see you two tonight then. I should go make sure Dean’s not murdering anyone for being annoying.”

And then Jo left, her hand resting lightly on Charlie’s back in a goodbye pat. Something about it struck Castiel as odd, and he explored the thought for a moment trying to see just what he was missing. Revelation hit him quickly. Selma’s teasing of Jo being more than willing to do favors for Charlie suddenly made a lot more sense.

He stuck with Charlie until later that night, despite having wanted to spend the day alone. He was glad he had when people started gathering around a fire that Benny and Gordon had spent a good part of the afternoon building up. It was a definitely welcome in the winter chill, which while at an easily bearable 50 degrees Fahrenheit during the day fell to a less favorable temperature at night. When Castiel and Charlie walked up, there was already a large amount of people there. Castiel recognized Benny’s people of course, and some of the those from the other sections, but mostly he had not really interacted with any of these people.

He ended up following Charlie over to where Gordon and some of the people from his section were standing.

“Thanks for building the fire,” Charlie said to him. Gordon nodded to her seriously, though his eyes were glued to Castiel and it didn’t take long until Cas heard the tell tale growl of Tina the dog from hell. Gordon signaled her to relax, but it didn’t do much to ease Castiel’s nerves.

“It was no problem,” he said, eyes fixed on Castiel. “What’s he doing here?”

“Gordon,” Charlie sighed, obviously hoping that he would back off. He didn’t.

“What? I’m not allowed to object to having to see his face when I’m trying to have a good time?” Gordon asked, eyes never moving. “If Dean had any sense he would have just shot him and been done with it. We don’t need the state’s leftovers.”

“Easy there,” said Benny, who had been sitting nearby and keeping the fire in good shape. It flared brighter when he poked at it and sparked slightly making Charlie’s hand twitch to the gun she had at her hip. “No use bullying soldier boy, he’ll just stand there and take it for the most part. I think he might even like being yelled at.”

“Only when you do it,” Castiel said, actually surprising a fairly hearty laugh out of Benny. Gordon looked like he was going to start something up again, but before he could manage, one of the people at his side spoke over him.

“Is it true you’re Christian?” asked Kubrick. “You believe in our Lord and savior, Jesus Christ?”

It took all of Castiel’s self control to look away from Gordon and towards Kubrick. He didn’t like to take his attention off of a threat, but he couldn’t afford to be caught in a fight, even if he didn’t start it. Opinions would turn against him that were currently more neutral if he hurt Gordon even in self defense.

“Yes,” said Castiel. Kubrick lit up and began to pepper him with more questions. Castiel answered them as best as he could while peripherally he saw Gordon realize that public opinion was likely against him with regards to Castiel. He stalked off muttering something Castiel couldn’t make out while Kubrick began talking Castiel’s ears off about how hard it was to get people to see the importance of God these days. If Kubrick was one of a very few in camp who were believers, Castiel could understand why people might not be very keen to talk about God here. He was insistent on his vision for God being the absolute correct one and listened to whatever Castiel had to say on a subject and then told him what his opinion should actually be.

It was a frustrating and ultimately pointless conversation as far as Castiel was concerned. Though he supposed he should be grateful that it had spared him a showdown with Gordon.

At long last he managed to escape the conversation, but by this time Charlie had left him in order to speak with her other friends. At the moment she was in deep conversation with Lizzy LaFitte and a black woman that Castiel knew was part of Gordon’s section but had never met. She was hard not to notice, considering she was taller than Castiel was, and would be even if her halo of hair hadn’t added a few inches to her already impressive height. She was also apparently amusing, if the fact that Charlie was giggling at every word she said was any indication. Castiel decided not to interrupt the conversation and walked around the clearing that was usually where the children played and had been commandeered for the bonfire.

He eventually found Jo, who was sat in a chair at one of the tables that had been dragged out for the event. With her was Sam Winchester, Jessica and Cordelia Moore, Lydia, Kevin and Linda Tran, and another boy that Castiel didn’t know by name. Selma was also sitting near them and when she saw him she gestured for him to join them at the table, which already had more chairs around it than it should. Castiel sat down gratefully next to her and tried to ignore the dip in conversation that his arrival caused.

“Cas,” said Jo, alerted to his presence by the sudden lack of conversation. “Want something to drink?”

“Yes, immediately,” he said, hoping he could manage enough that he wouldn’t have to finish this attempt at being social while still being sober. Jo smiled at him and passed him a cup of strong smelling alcohol. He drank it quickly, doing his best to ignore how it burned as it went down, and returned it for more which Jo immediately gave to him. He drank that quickly too.

“Perhaps you shouldn’t drink so much so fast,” Selma told him, when he handed the cup back to Jo a third time, who raised her eyebrows and poured significantly less inside this time.

“I’ll be fine,” Cas assured her, taking his cup back from Jo again. He didn’t finish it like he had been planning to though, if only so that Selma wouldn’t worry.

“Looks like the judgmental freak knows how to drink after all,” Benny drawled, making Cordelia laugh. “Not that there’s anything wrong with going without,” Benny said, tipping his head toward Selma, Sam, and Jess.

“What do you think soldiers do when they’re not on duty?” Castiel asked him, stressing the last few words to indicate exactly what it was he disapproved of when seeing people drinking at noon before doing their jobs. Not that Benny had done that ever, but he certainly allowed his men to.

“Drop it,” Jo said, looking between the two of them. Benny shrugged it off and Jo turned back to Cas. “Lemme introduce you to anyone you don’t know. That’s Jason, he’s Kevin’s cousin.”

Jason didn’t look thrilled to be meeting Castiel. Castiel offered him a short nod, which the boy ignored.

“And then Linda Tran,” Jo said, nodding toward the woman who while wary was much more polite toward Castiel. “Meg Masters. And you already know Lydia of course.”

“I admire her greatly,” Castiel said, causing Benny to scowl at him. Lydia winked at him when Benny wasn’t looking. The exchange seemed to relax those at the table who had been tense since he arrived, and even if they still seemed wary of him they began to fall back into conversation. Castiel decided to help by quietly speaking with Selma about how little he liked Kubrick, a conversation Sam broke in on soon enough.

“Yeah, he can be a little narrow-minded,” Sam muttered, eyes straying to Jess and then back to Cas. “He doesn’t exactly have the best idea of what repentance means either.”

Castiel frowned in question and didn’t have to wait long for an answer. Jessica was the one speaking now.

“All sins should be paid for with pain,” she said softly. She sounded disgusted. “He considers betrayal to be a terrible sin.”

They sounded as though they both had personal experience of this philosophy. Castiel would have asked after it if it weren’t for the slight shake of Sam’s head when he opened his mouth to question. The topic was apparently off limits. Castiel wondered if he could get Selma to tell him about it later.

“So Castiel,” Sam said, after Castiel had kept silent long enough that he was satisfied that Cas had understood the silent cue. “How has everything been with you?”

“I feel as though that is a trick question, considering Benny is sitting right there,” Cas said in place of an answer. Benny held up his middle finger at him, earning himself a look from Linda that had him immediately pretending he hadn’t been doing anything. It didn’t succeed in heading off the lecture about appropriate behavior she decided to give him, which Castiel took great personal satisfaction in overhearing. Benny didn’t interrupt once.

“I’m fine, really,” Castiel said, returning his attention to Sam. “Just trying to… adjust.”

“Charlie force-fed him Harry Potter today,” Jo informed Sam, raising her voice so she could be heard from the other side of the table. “So don’t be surprised if she pesters you for one of the other ones.”

“There are more?” Castiel asked, watching as Jo nodded in amusement.

“We’ve got four,” she said. “We also have books that are actually good.”

“Screw you,” said Sam to Jo, rolling his eyes. “And we have five, actually. Interesting story how I got the fifth one…”

“Oh yeah? Let’s hear it,” said Meg, who had been mostly quiet until then. Selma and Jason also confirmed wanting to hear what had happened, but Jess shook her head no and groaned as Sam settled in to tell the story anyway.

“Well, everyone remembers how Dean sent me out with Risa and her guys to Lucrum?” asked Sam. Lucrum was the city closest to Libidine, and yet it couldn’t be more different. The people living there were sedate and lifeless, for reasons Castiel could never quite comprehend. Those living in the areas surrounding the city, however, were fiercely against Lucrum and was more active than all of the other resistance groups at actually attacking government officials. Castiel’s garrison was rarely sent there, though, so Castiel knew the situation mostly from secondhand accounts. “Lenore is in charge over there and she knew someone who had a copy. Said that if I wanted I could try to trade for it, but she didn’t think they’d give it up. First I wanted to make sure it was one I didn’t have and as luck would have it, it was. So I left Risa in charge and went over to where this guy lived and asked to talk about trading.”

“Out of curiosity, is this story age appropriate?” asked Jo, nodding her head towards Kevin who scowled back at her.

“I’m eighteen,” he pointed out. His cousin, Jason, smirked at Kevin’s obvious annoyance.

“Don’t worry, someday you’ll be one of the big kids too,” said Jason, reaching out a hand to mess with Kevin’s hair, which was neatly avoided. Linda scowled at them both, but seemed resigned to the teasing and soon enough returned her attention to Sam’s story.

“As I was saying,” said Sam. “I was talking to this guy, and he was looking at me in a way that, honestly my skin was crawling. Said I looked like I had a strong heart. Which, I have to admit should have been a warning sign, but since Lenore knew him I was giving him the benefit of the doubt. And I really wanted that book.”

“Wait,” said Linda, looking as though she knew how this story ended. “This isn’t about that crazy-“

“Yep,” Sam said cutting her off. “So, we’re talking and he says that he might be willing to give up the book for something of equal value. This guy’s a doctor, so I’m assuming he wants equipment, and we don’t really have that, so I told him. But Dr. Benton said he had all the equipment he needed, but if I had any other books that I was willing to part with, he would make the trade. I thought that sounded like a good deal, and Dr. Benton only asked that I come back some time after ten because he had business he needed to get done.”

Sam paused a moment, looking as though he was trying to remember exactly what had happened next. He nodded to himself when he did.

“I told Risa why I was going again, and she said I had to bring someone along with me just in case and was pissed I’d gone alone in the first place,” said Sam. “So, I asked Trish to go with me.”

“I’m assuming Gordon hasn’t heard this story,” muttered Kevin. “I don’t think he would like hearing you let his sister do anything in the realm of dangerous.”

“No and it’s going to stay that way,” Sam said, looking each person at the table in the eye. “Anyway, Trish and I head out and I have a copy of Great Expectations to give him. I didn’t tell him I’d be bringing anyone, so I asked Trish to wait in the car while I made the trade.”

Sam’s expression shifted subtly into one of slight embarrassment before he recounted what happened next.

“The door opens and everything goes black. Next thing I know, I’m strapped to a table and Dr. Crazy Person has a knife to my chest, talking about how he’s going to harvest my organs. Not what we agreed for the trade, would not recommend working with him again,” said Sam with a shudder at the memory. “So I’m stuck there thinking about how I’m about to die because of a book series written a hundred years before I was even born and life is funny that way, huh? Lucky for me, Trish comes storming in about three seconds later and shoots Dr. Benton in the head. We found a lot of skeletons buried when we went looking, so I’m guessing I’m not the first person he did that to, either.”

“So,” Jo said, interrupting what Sam was going to say next. “You went through all that, and you still went snooping around his house to find the fucking Harry Potter book.”

“That… that about sums it up,” Sam confirmed. “Trish still hasn’t forgiven me.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t either,” said Jo, rolling her eyes. Benny glanced up at her mischievously and she started shaking her head no at him, but he spoke up anyway.

“As though you’ve never done anything on the wrong side of sane, Joanna Harvelle,” he said. “I seem to remember someone insisting they could outdrink Charlie Bradbury a few months ago. It wasn’t pretty what happened afterward, and I would know because Dean said since I’m your Captain you were my responsibility to take care of.”

“Fuck off,” said Jo. “Or do you want me to recount a few of the things you’ve done while hammered? Didn’t you let Dean give you a tattoo a couple of years back?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” said Benny, making Jo laugh. “Though if we want to talk about tattoos, Ms. Linda Tran has a fascinating example of the art.”

“You have a tattoo?” Jason and Kevin exclaimed at the same time, turning to stare at the woman in question. Linda pursed her lips and then shrugged, looking at both of them imperiously.

“You don’t know everything about me,” she said. The two cousins exchanged concerned looks at this news.

“What about you soldier boy?” came the voice of a person who had been rather quiet until that moment. Castiel jumped slightly at the attention and turned to face the dark eyes of Meg Masters that were set on him. “Got any stories to share?”

“No,” Castiel said instantly. Selma nudged him in gentle encouragement. “Really, I don’t-“

“Leave the robot alone,” said Benny, talking over him. “He only performs when you wind him up, ain’t that right?”

Castiel wished he could say his main motivator for deciding to participate in this exchange of stories wasn’t spite, but that would be an outrageous lie. He glared at Benny and then cleared his throat, thinking through his time with his garrison. He landed on a story and decided to run with it.

“I might have one story,” Castiel said, trying to ignore the warm feeling he got when he saw Jo start smirking at him in quiet pride for participating. “There were two men in my garrison, Balthazar and Uriel, and they… frequently didn’t get along one might say. Balthazar was, and I mean this kindly, a sarcastic ass and Uriel didn’t appreciate the competition for funniest soldier in the garrison. I might have… done something I shouldn’t have to Uriel’s rations and naturally he thought Balthazar had done it. Balthazar didn’t bother to correct him, because he thought it was funny how angry Uriel became, and without anyone quite knowing what was happening, the entire situation devolved into a series of tricks the two decided to play on each other.”

“Nice story, chief,” Benny said sarcastically. Castiel wondered if he had ever wanted to punch someone more in his entire life.

“I wasn’t finished,” he said. “This state of affairs drove Anna to near madness and she decided to take the matter of discipline into her own hands. She requested time from the state to put us all in our place and they gave her a week. She proceeded to put us through our paces. Mercilessly. I am certain no one had more than two hours of sleep each night for the first four days. And anyone who didn’t meet her expectations was subject to repeating whatever punishment she had thought up for us until they satisfied her or collapsed from exhaustion.”

The table had gone from polite interest to a kind of intrigued silence. Castiel decided to take that as a good sign and continued.

“On the fifth day, some of our members were near breaking point. Hael, Remiel, and Samandriel, other members of my garrison, were especially weary and I believed the lesson Anna was trying to impart had been received. At the very least, Uriel and Balthazar weren’t going to place one toe out of line for the foreseeable future. So I took it upon myself as her second in command to suggest she allow the garrison to rest.”

Castiel laughed to himself a moment, remembering the look on Anna’s face when he had done so. Perhaps it was the alcohol finally working its way into his system but for the first time since she had died it didn’t hurt to think about her quite so much.

“She was less than pleased with me, let me say that much. I tried to reason with her and she said that if I really wanted, I could just do everyone’s exercises myself,” said Castiel. “That night I told everyone that Anna had said they had the next day off and then returned to the training field to resume her training routine and repeat it. Nineteen times.”

“You-“ Jo cut in, looking at him with a kind of amused horror. “You are the most petty person I have met in my entire life.”

“My only regret is I didn’t finish,” Castiel continued, ignoring the quiet laughter that was bubbling up around him. “I got to ten before my legs gave out and Anna was forced to call a medic. They made me stay in a hospital for three days. It is almost certainly the second or third stupidest thing I have ever done. Strangely, when I got back I was respected much more than I ever was before the incident. It was the first time I ever felt like everyone really believed I deserved my position and it wasn’t just Anna playing favorites.”

The laughter had died out by now, and was replaced by an atmosphere Castiel couldn’t quite place. Benny was the one to break the silence. Castiel didn’t know why he was surprised anymore.

“Well that certainly is something,” said Benny. Castiel stared him down coolly.

“I’m not a robot,” he said, not knowing why he needed to. Why it mattered. Benny nodded, but if anything the nod seemed to be saying the opposite.

“No you’re not,” he said out loud, looking Castiel up and down. “Forgive me, chief. It’s easy to remember that monsters are human. Everyone’s human. It always rankles that humans can be monsters.”

“That statement is senseless.”

“Maybe to you,” said Benny. “But did you ever think about what the state asked you to do before your friend died? If she was still alive, you would shoot any of us sitting here on sight and don’t say you wouldn’t.”

That wasn’t strictly how the state worked. They preferred a program of capture, reeducate, reintegrate when possible. It kept discontent from reaching levels high enough to cause all out rebellion. Or at least it used to, before Libidine fell. Still, Castiel couldn’t say that.

“Are your hands clean?” he asked instead. It worked, even better than he expected it to. Castiel watched Benny’s face go sour and a long time passed before Castiel realized no one was going to say anything. He had successfully ruined their night and had learned nothing relevant to his mission except that perhaps Naomi could lure the Winchesters in with illegal books she certainly wouldn’t be in possession of.

He didn’t want to be there anymore. He pushed his chair back and walked away, cursing to himself when he heard footsteps following him. He turned to see Selma standing there, arm raised in an aborted attempt to stop him.

“I’d like to be alone,” he told his friend. Selma nodded at him, accepting that without questions.

“Okay,” she said to him. “Remember God is with you. And come back when you can. Some of us want you here.”

Castiel felt like a gallon had been added to the pool of guilt he was carrying inside him. He thanked her and walked away as fast as he could. He just needed to escape his mind, escape these complications that made him feel ever more as though he were in the wrong, as though these rough outlaws he had met had a point in their resistance to the rules the state had put down for the greater good.

As he walked, he found himself making use of techniques he had learned to avoid any of the people who were keeping watch on camp, and patrolling the various sections of camp. He didn’t want to be stopped or questioned, he just wanted to walk and walk until he could make the world right inside his mind again. He was a servant of the state. He was doing nothing wrong.

It took on a kind of rhythm avoiding the various people on duty, and it took Castiel far out of his way. He was surprised when he realized a certain area had more people patrolling than usual when he had to dodge three people in the space of five minutes. Out of curiosity and a desire to calm the unwelcome doubts that filled his head, he carefully crept closer to the tent they seemed to be trying to keep more secure than any of the others. Perhaps it was some kind of armory.

Castiel realized he was wrong when he got close enough to hear voices from within.

“Is mommy ever coming back?” asked a high pitched voice. “She’s been gone for forever.”

The last word was stretched out a long time and ended with a shriek that dissolved into small bursts of laughter.

“You don’t like spending time with your old man, huh?” came a much deeper voice. Castiel very nearly tripped over himself when he realized it was Dean’s.

“Daddy, don’t tickle me,” said the girl, voice bossy and demanding.

“Okay,” said Dean to her. “Tickle monster is gone for today. Besides, you need to go to sleep.”

“I don’t wanna.”

“Well, that is really too bad,” said Dean, sounding disappointed. “Because if you don’t go to sleep I don’t get to read you a bedtime story. And I was kinda looking forward to that.”

“But I want to stay up till mommy gets back,” said the girl.

“Mommy’s having fun tonight, Emma,” said Dean. “She’s not going to be back until way past your bedtime. Besides I know you and Aditi spent the whole day running around. You’re tired, admit it.”

“Never!” said Emma. She must have rethought this however, because her next question was. “Can I read the bedtime story to you instead?”

“Uh, sure,” said Dean, sounding more relieved the child wanted to sleep than anything. At least that’s how Castiel interpreted the sudden weariness in his voice. It was about a minute of silence before Emma’s voice came back, reciting a book with rhyming nonsense words. The tale was over quickly, but it must have worked because soft snores soon followed its conclusion. Castiel was about to leave when he heard more soft words coming from the tent.

“You used to be so small,” Dean said, sounding completely different than Cas had ever heard him before. “When’d you get so big, Emma?”

More soft snores answered his question. Castiel decided now was a good time to try to slink away unnoticed. This was information Naomi would be overjoyed to know.

It made so much more sense now. Dean’s paranoia about Castiel seeing the children. The constant monitoring Dean had on him, so that he wouldn’t wander and find out his secret. Even the test Dean had Charlie and Jo put Cas through was more understandable in having to know he could have a basic level of trust for Castiel. Dean had a child, and he was very committed to Castiel not knowing.

Too late now.

Having a solid piece of information to bring back to Superbia put him in slightly better spirits and he did end up heading back to the bonfire. He was glad he did too, because it had cleared out significantly in the time it had taken for him to finish his walk and now only about a half dozen people were left. Of those, the one that concerned Castiel was Jo, who was sitting on the ground with a bottle to herself and eyes that looked a little too glassy. Castiel carefully sat next to her before asking what was wrong. Jo turned to him, apparently much sharper than he had expected her to be.

“Walk me back to my tent,” Jo said, and Castiel agreed, glad when Jo set the bottle down. He would rather the stuff go to waste than Jo drink the whole of it. They went, and something about Jo seemed to be filled to the brim with a kind of nervous energy. When they reached the entrance of her tent, instead of Castiel going on his way, Jo pushed him inside.

Castiel was incredibly confused as to just what was happening, or why Jo looked like she wanted to cry. He only got more confused when Jo unzipped his coat and pushed it off his shoulders before doing the same thing to hers. She was standing to close to him and Castiel was confused and had no idea what to do or what was happening. Why did Jo look like she wanted to cry?

“Are we doing this or not?” Jo asked him, the words not the friendly ones he was used to from her.

“I… I’m lost,” Castiel said, and Jo let out a harsh laugh at that. “Jo is something wrong-“

“C’mon,” Jo said, dragging him further in and then stopping him in the part of the tent that Jo occupied. She seemed to expect him to catch on now, but Castiel was as unsure as to her strange behavior still. It wasn’t until she started to take off her shirt that Castiel realized exactly what Jo was trying to do.

“We don’t- I don’t-“ Castiel rushed to stop her. “Jo please stop. I don’t want-“

“Me?” she said, shoulders shaking with silent and angry laughter. She sat down heavily on her sleeping bag, crossing her legs and not looking at him anymore. “You can join the club I guess.”

“Did… did Charlie do something?” Castiel tried, still bewildered by exactly what he was supposed to do in this situation. Jo didn’t say anything, but if the way her shoulders went taut, Castiel had guessed correctly. “How is this supposed to help?”

“It’s not,” said Jo bitterly, still staring at the ground. “What, you’ve never gotten drunk and made a couple of self destructive decisions for the hell of it? Fell into bed with someone you shouldn’t because it’s better than going to sleep alone?”

“No,” said Castiel.

“Figures. I’m just crazy, I guess,” Jo muttered to herself.

“I don’t think- Jo, in my profession we don’t engage in sexual acts,” said Castiel, trying to explain away why he wasn’t interested because he didn’t want to contribute to whatever strange dark thoughts Jo seemed to be going through. “If a soldier breaks with that oath, its punishable by death. I’ve never…”

“Really?” Jo said, looking up at him again. “Why?”

“It’s the only full proof way of preventing sexual assault,” Castiel said, knowing the reason by heart. “We have a great deal of power in society. There have to be guidelines in place to make sure that isn’t abused.”

“Makes sense I guess,” said Jo, sniffling slightly and Cas wondered when she had started crying. “But you don’t have to follow those rules anymore. You’re with us now.”

“I know,” Castiel said quickly, not wanting to out himself as on the side of the state in any way. “But old habits die hard. And even if that wasn’t the case… I don’t think it would be beneficial for anyone to sleep with you when this is clearly a ploy to upset Charlie for something she’s done to you.

“She hasn’t done anything to me,” said Jo bitterly. “She’s too busy doing Betty Jacobs.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Castiel sincerely. “But I’m more sorry to know that you consider me reasonable collateral when it comes to getting back at her. I was under the impression we were friends.”

You’re a hypocrite, Castiel thought to himself. He felt worse when he saw the effect his words had on Jo, who seemed to shrink into herself.

“I was fucked up. You were there. That’s usually enough,” she said darkly. She shook herself a moment and then met his eyes. “You’re right though. I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted,” Castiel said back quietly, glad when Jo seemed to relax slightly at the knowledge he didn’t hold any of this against her. “I’m no stranger to self destruction.”

“Yeah, we need to have a talk about that one of these days,” Jo said, seeming relieved her issues were no longer front and center in the discussion. “You talk about dying a lot, Cas. Some of us are worried about you.”

“Don’t,” said Cas. “I’m fine.”

“In my experience, I’m fine is just a socially acceptable way of saying I don’t feel like talking about it,” Jo pointed out. Castiel supposed that was true, but in the end it didn’t matter whether or not he was fine. If he was doing his job, then he was doing the right thing. He just had to remember that.

“Good night, Jo,” he said, turning to leave.

“Wait,” Jo called after him. “Could ya… Could ya stay? Not like… I just don’t want to be alone right now.”

Jo had a look on her face that Castiel had seen all too often in the mirror. And he knew from experience how awful it felt to be suddenly alone and forced to live with one’s thoughts. He didn’t wish it on anyone.

So he stayed.

He ended up crawling into the sleeping bag with Jo because of the cold and the need to sleep, and it was calming having another person next to him. On certain assignments, members of his garrison had been forced into tight sleeping arrangements, and Castiel had always found it reassuring to know that someone he trusted was sleeping close by.

Jo made no move on him, for which he was glad, and instead started telling him things about Charlie that she loved. The little furrow between her brows when she was trying to work through a problem. How fucking red her hair was, which had Castiel trying not to think of a different red head, one who had taken to haunting his dreams. How Charlie always had her back, always took her side when Jo was trying to get something done and had to go up against Benny and Dean who both seemed to think she was reaching above her capabilities.

Castiel asked her if she had told Charlie any of this.

“What would be the point?” Jo asked him. “We’re friends. We hook up sometimes. She doesn’t want more than that from me, so what would be the point?”

Castiel didn’t have an answer to that. Jo went on talking and eventually she talked herself to sleep, dropping off mid sentence. Her even breathing had Castiel drifting off, too.

*************

“Guess who.”

The world was green. Anna was dressed in white.

However, this time they were both sat in the tree, side by side. Anna wasn’t bleeding yet and instead she was looking at him as though he had disappointed her. Castiel was sure his expression was much the same.

“So,” Anna said, when Castiel refused to speak to her. “Are you loyal or cunning?”

“I still don’t know what that question means,” Castiel muttered. Anna seemed to take his response as encouragement.

“Neither do I, but it is intriguing,” said Anna. “Made you think.”

“Why are you here?” Castiel asked.

“You’re still asking the wrong questions, Cas,” said Anna, bare feet swinging back and forth as she stared into the distance. “If you want my help, you’re going to need to try a little harder.”

Castiel didn’t know what she meant. He didn’t know why he couldn’t push her from his head, or why he knew deep down he didn’t want to. She betrayed the state and for all intents and purposes she should be dead to him in more than just the literal sense. And yet…

“Loyal,” Castiel said quietly. “I’m loyal.”

“That’s what I always thought,” said Anna, turning to face him. “Though recent evidence might suggest otherwise.”

Castiel knew without asking she was talking about what he had learned about Dean and the fact he planned to share what he knew with Naomi.

“I don’t know what you want from me.”

“I want you to think,” said Anna, and she sounded angry. Sounded like she did when Castiel couldn’t measure up to her expectations as a soldier and that sound in her voice had always pushed Castiel to be better than he was. To get up when his mind told him he didn’t have anything left. What strange and awful relief it was to hear it now. “You always had questions Cas. You never said them out loud, but you always had questions. You believed Naomi when she said I assassinated the Lightbringer. Why?”

Castiel frowned at Anna and decided to be honest.

“It… There were things you said to me in passing that made more sense,” Castiel said. “And there were always cracks Anna. I thought that was why you let me be second in command because I didn’t mind seeing them. I thought it made you a great leader, being able to put aside your emotions even when you felt things so strongly.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” Anna said, not sounding sorry at all.

“You betrayed all of us,” said Cas, riled up by Anna’s dismissal of what she had done. “Your actions didn’t exist in a vacuum, Anna. I… the things I’ve been through since you died-“

“You might dress me in white and let me die in your arms, but you know I was never a saint, Castiel,” said Anna, sounding tired now. “I asked you to live. It’s a cruel thing to do, I know.”

“You asked me to fight. That’s different,” Castiel said, although it amounted to the same thing. Keep breathing. “But what do you want me to fight for? The state? These… these disorganized and hopeless people that make up what is only generously termed a resistance? I can’t fight for you, because you’re dead and… I don’t know what to do with this confusion.”

“Keep asking questions.”

Castiel hated how calm she sounded. Because an existential crisis that had lasted two months of running from the people he had sworn to serve was still fresh in his mind.

“If I’m not a servant of the state… I don’t know who I am, Anna,” said Cas.

Anna rested a hand on his shoulder and looked sad when he flinched away from her. She sighed, but didn’t attempt to touch him again.

“You’re loyal,” said Anna. “I can’t tell you what that means or which side to pick. You know my choice. You have to make your own.”

*************

DECEMBER 26, 110 A.L. - 30 MILES OUTSIDE INVIDIA

Benny had stopped going out of his way to annoy Castiel. That was, of course, because Dean had told him to stop, since he was the only one that Benny would actually listen to. Castiel knew this because Dean had had an actual conversation with him the day after the 21st. Perhaps it had been at Charlie’s urging, though Castiel had a strong suspicion Sam was the one who had mentioned Castiel and Benny’s feud of sorts.

Dean had said he was sorry that Benny was giving him a hard time and made clear he hadn’t asked him to do so. Castiel had responded by saying that it was alright, and that Dean assigning Lydia to Benny more than made up for any discomfort Castiel felt at constantly being singled out for the worst jobs. At the very least he knew Benny was going through a hell much worse than any he could try to make for Castiel.

Dean had laughed and then said “You’re kind of weird, you know that?”

“I know about Emma,” Castiel didn’t say.

“I’ve been informed,” he did, telling himself he had nothing to be ashamed of. Dean was actively working against everything he believed in. And he didn’t know this man. Still the pool of guilt grew as Dean grinned at him, clapped him on the shoulder, and told Castiel to let him know if Benny gave him anymore trouble.

He was thinking of it now as he and Selma were keeping an eye on the perimeter of camp. They even let Castiel carry a gun now, and he knew that said that he had come a long way in their estimation since he had first arrived.

Selma certainly trusted him. She had over the past few days slowly but surely let him in on the history of anyone he asked about, likely in the name of gossip. She seemed to forget frequently that he wasn’t merely a new member of the camp and that she should be careful of what she said to him. He took advantage of it.

Add a few more drops to the steadily growing guilt within him.

He had started with Sam and Jess, wondering about their history and had gotten a brief history of the Winchesters. They, unlike most resistance members, had been raised in the cities for their own safety. Mary Winchester, who was as close to a general as the resistance got, had wanted them to grow up safe from raids that at the time of Sam’s birth had been frequent and indiscriminate. The state frequently stole children from resistance members in those days and gave them to infertile couples that could raise them within the state system. The practice had been discontinued since then and Castiel had never participated in it, for which he was relieved.

So John Winchester had pretended he was defecting with his two sons and gone to the city of Acedia. After that, no one knew much, excepting perhaps Charlie and Jo (neither of which was likely to share something the Winchesters didn’t want them to). All that was certain was that sixteen years later, John was dead, Dean came back to the resistance, and Sam didn’t. In fact, Sam had apparently been quite a prominent scientist in Acedia for the state. Jess and Cordy had been working at the same facility as he was, but something had happened while they were there and it had ended with the three of them burning the place to the ground and Sam reaching out to his brother for the first time in years. Selma had only just joined when this happened, and she said it was a lot like when Castiel had first come, except worse because something had been very wrong with Jess and Sam when they had gotten there. Whatever it was, and Selma said officially no one knew and she certainly never found out, it had only increased suspicions in camp, especially when it came to Gordon and Kubrick.

“I think Kubrick knows more than he lets on,” Selma had said at one point. “If he’s had a few drinks, he sometimes says something about punishment for Jess and Sam to atone for what they’ve done. He’s smart enough not to say it around Dean though.”

“And Gordon?” Castiel had asked.

“Gordon’s complicated,” said Selma. “It’s kind of an open secret that he and Dean had… something.”

“Something?” Castiel had asked. Then recent memory of what these people apparently did when feeling distressed and uncertain comes rushing back to him, and he had realized what Selma meant. “Oh.”

That was not something he had expected.

“Don’t mention it to Gordon if you want to live,” Selma had said next, though she stopped suddenly at the end of her sentence and glanced at him worriedly. Jo had probably told her to watch him for ‘talking about dying’. Castiel ignored her caution.

“I’ll be sure not to,” he had said. And they moved on to other subjects.

The one thing Selma never mentioned was Emma.

It was quiet as it had been every day since Castiel had gotten here, and if it weren’t for the fact that the stress was starting to show on Charlie’s face Castiel might think that absolutely nothing was happening. Instead he just had a sense of foreboding and wondering what form trouble was going to take when it ultimately came.

“You’re quiet today,” Selma commented as Castiel’s eyes scanned the trees that were close to the perimeter of the camp. The road they had used to get here was on the other side of camp, and more people were keeping watch there, which meant Selma and Cas had more area to cover, but there was likelihood of any sort of attack. Then again, any attack at all should be unlikely, at least not without Charlie picking up on it first. She truly was in many ways their greatest asset and would be if that was the only thing she could do for them.

“I’m thinking,” Castiel answered.

“About your friend?” asked Selma. Castiel resisted the urge to snap at her. It wasn’t Selma’s fault he was mad at a dead woman.

“No,” he said shortly. He had in fact spent a long time now very purposefully not thinking about Anna, and he planned to continue to do so as long as possible. Not that it stopped the dreams of her dying, which were almost always fragmented and violent now. Sometimes the dreams went off script and Castiel managed to shoot himself before Anna could stop him.

Selma would not react well to hearing this, so Castiel didn’t tell her.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Jo and Charlie aren’t speaking,” said Castiel, because that at least was something he could talk about out loud. “I don’t think Charlie knows why.”

“Of course she doesn’t,” said Selma with a snort. “Do you think this is the first time this has happened, Cas?”

“I- yes, I did.”

Selma shook her head and shrugged as she scanned the tree line.

“Charlie always breaks first,” said Selma. “Whenever they get close to something serious she’ll do something to make sure Jo knows that she doesn’t expect anything more from their relationship.”

“Does she worry a romance with Jo will compromise her ability to do her job?” Castiel asked, thinking perhaps this was reasonable. Selma raised an eyebrow at him, though, so he had a feeling he had missed the true reason. “Then why?”

“Love is scary,” said Selma. “And it hurts. And it makes things messy. It’s easier to keep people at a distance for some.”

“So Charlie does think of Jo as… something different than a friend?”

“Yeah, I think so,” said Selma. “Though you would probably be more qualified to say at this point than me. I know Jo much better than Charlie.”

That was probably true. Or at least would be if Castiel had any practice being able to identify these types of relationships. He had assumed, upon his initial realization that Charlie and Jo were sexually involved that they were also in a relationship. It had only become obvious that that wasn’t the case when Jo had attempted to proposition him. Jo had been sure not to mention that to anyone and Castiel had done likewise, however.

He and Selma then started speculating what food might be available after their shift (Castiel had guessed some sort of dried meat and Selma had glumly agreed), when they were interrupted by Jess. She waved at them as she walked towards them, and Castiel and Selma exchanged glances wondering what she wanted.

“Hey Cas,” said Jess when she got closer. “Dean and Charlie want your help assessing some intelligence reports they’ve been getting. They said I could finish out your shift with Selma, and then Benny will take care of everything from there.”

“Alright,” Castiel said. “Will I be back for-“

“You’re going to be working directly with Dean, Sam, and Charlie for the foreseeable future,” said Jess, patting his arm and shrugging sympathetically. “Sorry for the lack of notice.”

“Oh. I see,” said Castiel, surprised at the fact he wasn’t exactly pleased with this development. It was something he should be glad about for gathering information for Naomi to use, and yet he had grown used to spending his days with Selma and eating lunch with her and Jo and Boris. Certainly, Benny was insufferable, but at least he was a known variable to Castiel. Dean and Sam still very much weren’t.

Then again, Castiel had never been fond of change. He liked routine, and had been trained to understand its importance. Flexibility was something he possessed, but was never eager to exercise.

Castiel left Jess and Selma with a small wave for the latter. Selma smiled at him and mouthed something at him that he couldn’t make out. Something about being alright. He was sure it was meant to be reassuring, and not for the first time he wondered how she could be so kind to him. The answer, of course was that she thought he was on her side.

The walk through the tents was uneventful for the most part. Castiel nodded as he passed friendly faces and was most of the way back to the center of camp when there was a hard grip on his arm and he was shoved into one of the nearby tents. Out of instinct mostly he responded by twisting out of the grip and using the unseen person’s weight against them to get them off their feet. This maneuver backfired when a well placed shift in momentum caused Castiel to also fall. He and his opponent were back on their feet as soon as they could manage and Castiel now saw that the person who had been trying to get his attention was none other than Meg Masters, the new recruit who had been sitting at the table with everyone on the night of the 18th.

“Fun as this is,” said Meg, raising her palms up in a gesture of good faith. “I wasn’t really looking for a fight. If you wanted to move some furniture around later, though…”

“What do you want?” Castiel asked, not having time for whatever she was implying. Meg shrugged as though she hadn’t expected an answer anyway.

“Naomi sent me,” she said, causing Castiel to stiffen in surprise. “You are an investment she wanted to make sure got returns on… and hey you’re not the only one who gets a second chance because you couldn’t hack it for personal reasons.”

“And you’re telling me this now because?” Castiel asked.

“We’re on the same side,” said Meg. “And I’ve been keeping in occasional contact with our mutual boss. There’s a loophole in Charlie’s system we’re currently taking advantage. Now, I don’t know how long it will last, but so far she hasn’t figured it out. Last night, Naomi sent in a message saying she agreed with your assessment when it came to how to effectively disable this branch of the resistance.”

“And that is?” Castiel asked, fearing the answer.

“Kill Ms. Techno Goddess herself,” said Meg nonchalantly. “I’ve got a plan on how to do, but I need your help. Meet me in my tent after dark tonight and we’ll talk about it.”

“Yes, because that isn’t suspicious at all,” Castiel said, crossing his arms and dropping his defensive pose. Perhaps this was another test Dean was setting for him. “In any case, you haven’t offered any proof Naomi actually sent you. You could be anyone.”

Meg reached into her pocket, causing Castiel to draw the gun he was now allowed to carry and point it at her. She smirked at him and let a piece of paper flutter open and held it out to him.

Naomi’s handwriting. That meant Meg was indeed here under her orders. Castiel felt sick.

“And hey it’s not that suspicious,” said Meg. “People will find explanations. They’ll probably go for the easy one.”

“And what’s that?”

Meg crossed her arms and smirked again with slightly raised eyebrows.

“You must have been one obedient little soldier,” she said when Castiel didn’t visibly react. “You never even thought about breaking certain rules? Letting off steam?”

“No,” Castiel said.

“Hey, don’t sweat it. Color me impressed,” said Meg. “I mean that kind of temptation is what got me in hot water with the state.”

“You were in a garrison?” Castiel asked, surprised. Meg didn’t have the look about her that those in garrisons had.

“Once upon a really long time ago,” she confirmed. “It didn’t work out. But more about that later. You have a meeting to get to, don’t you?”

Castiel had forgotten about that. He left without another word, firmly pushing what he was going to do about Meg to a distant later. Besides he needed his mind to focus on what he was supposed to do when confronted with intelligence provided by…

“Look who finally decided to show up,” said Dean, already annoyed with him. Charlie elbowed him, but he ignored her. “I sent Jess to get you twenty minutes ago.”

“I got sidetracked. One of your new recruits had some questions for me, I answered them. Then I came here.”

“It’s fine,” Sam broke quickly as Dean opened his mouth to respond to that. “Really. He’s here, let’s just get to work.”

“Fine,” said Dean. “Sit down.”

Dean was sat at the head of the table while Charlie and Sam were sat next to each other with the Charlie’s favorite computer sat in the middle of the two, but tilted towards Charlie. Castiel sat at the other side of the desk, leaving a chair of space in between him and Dean.

“What do you want to know?” Castiel asked. Charlie opened her mouth but Dean held up a hand in a nonverbal gesture to ask for a moment to speak. Charlie nodded at him.

“I’ve had a few conversations with Selma,” said Dean. “And Jo and Benny too. You fit in pretty well with all of them.”

“Is that a problem?” Castiel asked.

“No. But I want you to remember that what you’re doing right now is going to affect who lives and who dies. Selma or Jo or Boris or anyone in this entire camp could be one of those people. You understand that right?”

He leaned forward to say it, partly Castiel thought to impress the gravity with which he meant it and partly because it encouraged a feeling of familiarity. Either way, it was effective. Castiel’s eyes slipped to Charlie without his permission and he knew that Dean caught the movement even if he didn’t comment on it.

“I understand,” Castiel said. Dean leaned back again.

“Great. Charlie, wanna get on with it?”

Charlie looked unimpressed with that, but she let it go and looked over at Castiel.

“Here’s what we know. Invidia is currently under the leadership of a man named Zachariah. He’s basically this town’s version of Naomi.”

“I know,” Castiel said. “We’ve been stationed in Invidia before.”

“Yeah, good for you,” Dean said with a roll of his eyes. “Keep talking Charlie.”

“I’ve been able to hack outgoing messages from him,” said Charlie. “Which means we’ve known for a while that he had plans to pretty much wipe out resistance forces outside Invidia. The other cities have sent back mixed opinions on whether or not this is a good idea.”

“Current standard protocol is an emphasis on rehabilitating rogue elements and reintegrating them into society. High ranking members of resistance forces are the only ones we are approved of using lethal force on,” Castiel confirmed. “Any change to that usually wouldn’t happen quickly. However, without anyone acting as the Lightbringer-“

“If no one’s in charge, there’s no one to ask permission from,” said Dean. “We got that when Zachariah’s response to people questioning him was a pretty thinly veiled ‘fuck you’.”

“Then what do you need me for?” Castiel asked them. Sam nodded to Charlie and she continued.

“We can’t get into anything they’re communicating internally,” she said. “I’m already leaving a couple of holes in our defenses just to eavesdrop on outgoing and incoming messages. So while we know that there is a plan to take out camps surrounding Invidia, we don’t know the specifics of it.”

“Our only advantage right now is they don’t know we’re here,” said Dean. Castiel looked down and Dean raised his eyebrows. “They know we’re here, don’t they?”

“Probably,” said Castiel, knowing there was no purpose in lying.

“You going to elaborate on that?” he asked.

“No,” said Castiel. “Though if you tell me the content of the messages you’ve intercepted I might be able to tell you what exactly Zachariah is planning.”

He was changing the subject and he was sure it was painfully obvious to them. Whatever ground he had gained in trust was likely quickly being lost after this revelation that he had information he wasn’t sharing with them. But they needed to know anything they could, so they each looked at each other and then seemed to silently agree to discuss it later.

“Sweet Dreams,” said Charlie. “That mean anything to you?”

It did.

“That’s… I’ve heard rumors,” Castiel admitted. “It’s not- I don’t think it’s real.”

“What is it?” asked Sam, cutting through Castiel’s disbelief.

“Well, supposedly the state at one point developed a serum that could cause the body to shut down almost completely for up to seventy two hours. The alleged side effects of this state of unconsciousness were euphoric dreams for most and panicked nightmares for those with an adverse reaction. The concept was supposed to be if you keep a person on this drip constantly, you can loosen their grip on reality to the point that they will answer any question posed to them.”

“And you don’t think they can do that?” asked Dean, sounding vaguely horrified.

“I don’t know,” said Castiel honestly. “But if the rumors are true that it exists… then it’s likely also true that they’re ineffective. The serum turns your brain to mush. The story goes that by the time a subject is pliable enough to be questioned, they’ve lost any reasoning capability to answer.”

Dean raised an eyebrow and then muttered to his brother.

“You ever hear about anything like this?”

Sam shook his head and they both went back to looking at Castiel.

“It was supposed to have been tested in Lucrum,” said Castiel. “I’ve found scientists can be reticent when sharing their work, for what it’s worth.”

“That’s true,” Sam acknowledged. Selma must have told Dean she had let Castiel in on some of the Winchesters history because he didn’t look surprised to hear Castiel knew that he was once a state employee. “If it’s not immediately fatal and it doesn’t work in interrogation, why do they want to use it though? Something doesn’t sound right.”

“The rumors are old,” Castiel said. “At least a decade old. I first heard of it when I was assigned to Anna’s garrison. And I suspect it’s much older than that too, since even older soldiers seemed to remember having heard it early in their careers.”

“So you’ve got nothing?” Dean asked. “Right. Awesome. Weird serum that shouldn’t exist and is useless if it does. They wouldn’t use something useless so it’s probably…”

“A euphemism for something else we’ve never seen before. Or they found some way to make an old experiment work, which means we still don’t know anything about how they changed it,” Charlie concluded. “That doesn’t sound good.”

The meeting didn’t go much better from there.

By the time Castiel got out and ate, it was already dark and he was making his way to Meg’s tent. When he got there, she welcomed him inside and then wasted no time in getting down to business.

“So here’s how we’re going to kill Charlie Bradbury.”

DECEMBER 27, 110 A.L. - 30 MILES OUTSIDE INVIDIA

Four days until Castiel assisted in the murder of Charlie Bradbury.

DECEMBER 28, 110 A.L. - 30 MILES OUTSIDE INVIDIA

Three days until Castiel assisted in the murder of Charlie Bradbury.

DECEMBER 29, 110 A.L. - 30 MILES OUTSIDE INVIDIA

Two days until Castiel assisted in the murder of Charlie Bradbury.

Jo said he was looking ill at breakfast that morning. Castiel had shrugged and tried to eat the eggs that had been donated from Cain and the other farms he represented.

DECEMBER 30, 110 A.L. - 30 MILES OUTSIDE INVIDIA

One day until Castiel assisted in the murder of Charlie Bradbury.

A rumor had gone around camp at this point that Castiel was sleeping with Meg, since Risa had seen Castiel leave her tent the night Meg had told him the plan. Everyone believed it except for Jo. She knew that Castiel had never done anything sexual with anyone, and the idea that he would change his mind about that in such a short time likely struck her as absurd. She had started frowning at him as though she was trying to figure him out. Castiel almost hoped she would.

DECEMBER 31, 110 A.L. - 30 MILES OUTSIDE INVIDIA

Castiel was meant to keep people busy and from realizing it was Meg who had committed the crime she was supposed to. He also had a feeling he was meant to take the blame for her death, considering the specifics of the plan had him not in sight when the murder was supposed to occur. He had given Naomi a way to make destabilizing this particular branch of the resistance more effective and she had decided his purpose had finished. There was no other explanation for it.

Then again, as it was the will of the state, Castiel knew he should go through with her orders anyway.

Camp before the sun rose was a strange place. There were of course still people up and making sure nothing was going wrong, but Castiel found them easy to avoid. However, by adopting a kind of ‘out of sight, out of mind’ philosophy, he found himself treating his part in the mission as a training exercise. All he had to do was set off each of the devices Meg had given him, which were supposed to smoke wildly and cause minor fires, on the edges of camp. She would already be in position to move in on Charlie as soon as the distraction began and it was Castiel’s job to make sure no one came looking for her until it was too late.

He set each device carefully, knowing who was on duty and which tents were empty, as well as which tents had children inside. He was sure to avoid the ones with children, while targeting ones he knew to be empty. Once each device had been set, he took out the remote Meg had given him. He had already tested one of the devices several days ago to ensure they did as Meg said and weren’t explosive and didn’t operate in a way he was unaware of.

It was going to be light soon, Castiel thought. The remote was in his right hand and there was no point in putting it off any longer. He hit the button and then watched as smoke began to billow from different places in camp. Nobody was reacting yet and Castiel worried they wouldn’t in time, so he yelled “Fire!” as loudly as he could before running so that anyone who came to investigate wouldn’t find him.

People were up now and everyone was rushing toward where they feared they were under attack. Cas meanwhile, was running in the opposite direction to where he knew Meg would be trying to take Charlie. However, several things would be working against Meg until he had time to get there. For one, Castiel had disarmed Meg’s weapons the night before and also made sure that Charlie had a knife within reach before he had left that morning. For another, once Jo had started to be suspicious of him, he had done everything in his power to increase that suspicion. It was only a matter of time before-

“Hey!” Jo yelled, catching sight of him running and stepping directly in the way of him. “Where do you think you’re going?”

Castiel was supposed to be in front of Jo when she saw him. This could be a problem.

“I don’t have time for this,” he said, watching as Jo aimed a gun at him in case he tried to run. “Jo, I know this looks bad, but you have to trust-“

“No,” she said shortly. “The only reason you’re still alive right now is I want to make sure of something before I put a bullet between your eyes.”

It stung to hear, but Castiel tried not to show it on his face.

“Meg’s bad news, I figured that out,” said Jo. “Is anyone else here a rat?”

“Charlie’s in danger,” Castiel said deciding to cut to the chase and head off what he was sure was going to be a lengthy interrogation. Jo rolled her eyes at him and Castiel realized with growing horror that she thought he was lying to distract her. “Jo, I need to-“

Jo pointed her gun down and shot his left leg. Castiel fell, and swallowed down a shout of pain. Not the first time you’ve been shot, he reminded himself. And she didn’t hit bone, thank God. he just needed to ignore it and get up.

He waited as Jo got closer. The moment she was within range for what he had in mind, he lunged for her gun, ignoring her for the moment and taking a brutal kick to the side while he removed her ammunition. After that he dragged her down and used the gun to hit her just hard enough to stun her so he could get to his feet and start running again. It was only about ten seconds before he could hear Jo’s footsteps behind him, and he knew she was going to catch him eventually. He just needed to get to his and Charlie’s tent before it happened.

This center of camp was deserted. However, the shouts and confusion that drifted from the edges were enough to mask, for the most part, any sound that was coming from Charlie’s tent. Cas dove through the entrance to the tent, and stood unsteadily when he got inside.

Charlie had obviously given a pretty good fight if the fact Meg was bleeding from more than one wound was any indication. It hadn’t been enough to overcome state training in the end though, because Meg had her hands around Charlie’s neck and Charlie was only just barely still struggling. Cas had Meg in a chokehold in an instant, surprising her into letting Charlie go.

Charlie gasped for air and scrambled away, coughing on every other breath. Castiel ignored her in favor of making sure that he was keeping the pressure even on Meg who was doing her best to escape the hold he had her in. He waited until she went limp and then let her go, stopping to check her pulse. He needed to make absolutely certain she was alive. Having affirmed this, Castiel went back to Charlie to make sure she hadn’t suffered any life threatening injuries.

He didn’t need to though, because Jo was already seated next to her.

“Can you talk?” Jo asked Charlie, who tried and then shook her head. “Okay nod or shake your head. Are you okay?”

Charlie nodded.

“Do you need me to get Dr. Newman?” Jo asked. Charlie shook her head and stood up. She then promptly threw up, and Castiel had a feeling that the only reason she was still standing after that was because Jo was holding her up. “Uh huh, sure. We’re taking you to Dr. Newman. Cas, can you-“

Jo cut herself off and then looked at him, eyes going down to where Castiel only just realized he was likely bleeding pretty profusely from his left leg. That would explain the lightheadedness, Castiel thought to himself.

“Never mind,” Jo said, swallowing and looking back at Charlie. “I-“

“I’m not going to die from this,” Castiel told her. “Strangulation can cause complications that might require immediate medical attention. Take care of Charlie.”

Jo nodded at him. She stopped to find Charlie first aid kit and passed it to him, for which Castiel was grateful because he really needed to bandage this before he passed out from blood loss.

“I’ll be back,” Jo told him. Castiel nodded, but his focus was on stopping the bleeding for now. He would beed Dr. Newman to take the bullet out at some point, though. “Hey, Cas?”

Cas looked up at her.

“I’m sorry,” she said. She took a deep breath before continuing. “I should have trusted you.”

No, you shouldn’t have, Castiel thought to himself.

“You did what you thought was right,” Castiel said instead. “I would have done the same were our positions reversed.”

Jo seemed to accept that and to Castiel’s relief her attention returned to Charlie and getting her medical attention. Castiel’s focus after he had bandaged his leg was making sure Meg was restrained, which he did quickly, knowing she would be conscious again soon.

Dr. Newman came in the tent fifteen minutes later. He gave Castiel a sedative and for a while none of Castiel’s memories were very clear. He knew he managed to make himself coherent enough to insist that no one kill Meg, and hoped that he had earned enough trust that they would do so. He needed Meg alive if he was going to keep himself in Naomi’s good graces.

After all, what better way to earn trust than foil an assassination attempt? Castiel had already seen the change that came over Jo. This was proof to all of them, undeniable proof, that he was on their side. From the moment Meg had brought up the plan, Castiel had realized that he stood a chance to remove doubts anyone had about him. The information he could gain from this one action alone could be invaluable to the state.

And Charlie got to live.

Not that Castiel would tell Naomi that that had even for one second affected his reasoning.

JANUARY 5, 111 A.L. - SUPERBIA

“Good luck talking your way out of this one,” said Meg, rubbing at wrists that until recently had been tied together with rope. She had spent almost the entirety of the trip saying such things to him. It had stopped being ominous after the first day of travel. He had decided to remain on back roads because he didn’t want to risk trying to pull off the fake papers Jo and Charlie used as both authentic and his own.

Even convincing resistance leadership that he needed to go back to Superbia and attempt to salvage his position there had not been easy. Charlie had been worried about his safety, while Sam and Dean clearly didn’t want to lose someone that had even the smallest amount of information on whatever threat Zachariah would be posing to Invidia’s local resistance. They had all argued that Castiel had played his hand, and it was clear that his loyalties had switched. Their insistence on the matter might have been funny for who incredibly wrong they were, if it weren’t for the guilt Castiel still felt.

“I don’t need luck,” Castiel said now to Meg, stepping out of the car the two of the had spent the last three days driving in. Castiel had given Meg sedatives when he needed to sleep to ensure that she didn’t kill him while he was resting and made sure she ate, but had otherwise neither spoken nor acknowledged her until now. Charlie might have some sort of surveillance on the car, even if she did trust him now. One never knew. “What I did I did for the good of the state.”

“You’re really going to try to sell that?” Meg asked, crossing her arms. “You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that.”

Castiel walked into the Naomi’s building instead of further engaging Meg and she walked in beside him. The two took the elevator up to Naomi’s floor and Castiel walked up to Ambriel without so much as stopping to see who was staring at him this time.

“I need to see Naomi,” said Castiel, without preamble. Ambriel looked up at him and frowned.

“She’s busy, but I can let her know-“

“Oh trust me,” said Meg. “She’s going to want to hear this now.”

Ambriel looked between the two of them and then dialed Naomi on her phone and had a short and quiet conversation with her. By the time she was done, Castiel was certain that Naomi knew about what he had done some way or other. Likely there were other low level spies in camp. Or Meg had found some way to communicate that Castiel wasn’t aware of. It didn’t matter how Naomi knew. She knew, but Castiel was confidant she would give him a chance to explain.

He wasn’t surprised however when she ordered he be brought in by two soldiers. They stood at either side of Castiel when he and Meg were walked into Naomi’s office. She looked at them both and made them wait in silence for a minute before she spoke.

“Explain yourself,” Naomi said. Meg’s jaw dropped and she started to protest, but Naomi held a hand up. Meg went silent, but looked around and took in something Castiel had noticed immediately. The two soldiers that were making sure Castiel didn’t hurt Naomi had their hands near their guns and it was likely only a matter of time before Naomi ordered him shot dead.

“The plan you sent was flawed and I had no way to communicate such to you,” Castiel said. “I’m also very certain it was meant tot end in my death while Meg remained in camp and acted as your informant. However, that was never a feasible plan. It was known immediately we were meeting with each other and suspicion was going to fall on her when I got caught. You would have been left with a branch of the resistance that was angry, eager to lash out, and you would have no one on the inside to tell you what they might do. More than that, even if Meg could have gotten away with it, she still couldn’t provide the information I have access to.”

“You still disobeyed orders.”

“I earned their trust. They let me come here alone, armed, and with a hostage they could have tried to use against you,” Castiel said. “I know you think I’ve failed in this assignment and that’s why you assigned me a part in which logically I would have been killed for my actions.”

Naomi appraised him coolly.

“You were able to tell us little of use after your first week with them and according to Meg you didn’t much improve your behavior in recent weeks,” she said, confirming Castiel’s suspicions. “Yes, I started to think you were as you have often insisted, not the man for this job. Do you have any evidence to suggest otherwise?”

“Dean Winchester has a daughter. Her name is Emma,” Castiel said, leading with his strongest argument for remaining on the assignment. That caused both Meg and Naomi to react with sudden interest. “I have reason to suspect he loves her enough that her safety being an issue would distract him.”

Naomi had to realize the significance of this revelation. It took her a few seconds from when Castiel had stopped speaking, but at last a relieved smile began to cross her face, and Castiel knew he had succeeded in convincing her of his own necessity.

“Go on,” she said, taking out a notebook and a pencil to record what Castiel was saying.

So Castiel told her all he knew, and Meg stared at him in shock at his willingness. He had a feeling she was slowly reforming her opinion of him. Good. Perhaps that would spread wider and he would regain a portion of the respect everyone had lost for him.

When Castiel was done reporting, Naomi practically grinned at him.

“We can use this,” she said with a firm nod of her head. “This is excellent, Castiel.”

“Now I need something from you,” Castiel said, causing her to pause. “What is Sweet Dreams?”

Naomi’s face darkened and she muttered something to herself before answering.

“It’s Zachariah trying to make a show of power to sway the seven cities’ opinions on who should be the next Lightbringer,” said Naomi. “They’ve made a gas out of a preexisting serum that dilutes the effects so that instead of falling unconscious those exposed have waking hallucinations. He thinks it will make the resistance easy pickings after they’ve been gassed.”

“Would you like me to put a stop to it?” Castiel asked her. Naomi looked as though she hadn’t considered it before, and likely she hadn’t. Zachariah would be a nuisance for her, and it was clear he was trying to undermine the other leaders of the seven cities through his actions, but nothing he was doing was a threat to the state. Castiel interfering would be Naomi asking for something from him for personal gain.

It also aligned with current resistance goals of avoiding the extermination Zachariah had planned for them that Naomi surely disapproved of. Her allowance of second chances even for those that had agreed to death as a punishment for disobeying had suggested to Castiel she was one of the voices that was still strongly in favor of reeducation over annihilation.

“Yes,” she said, at last. “But should Zachariah discover you and learn of your affiliation of me, I made no such request from you, is that understood?”

“I understand,” Castiel confirmed. Naomi dismissed both him and Meg after this. Cas was glad she had kept his further instructions short, and only asked Meg to give Castiel the small clicker she had been using to keep in touch with Superbia while at camp. He knew Morse code, of course, and now had a direct line to Naomi if he needed clarification on anything or to share information without returning to Superbia.

He and Meg left, and although Castiel tried to out walk her to the elevator, Meg kept up with him so he was forced to take the ride down to her before he made the long drive back to Invidia, alone. She wasted no time once the elevator doors had closed to say what was on her mind.

“So whose side are you on, soldier?” she asked. “Because I’m honestly not sure anymore.”

“You should have your wrists looked at,” Castiel said in lieu of an answer, indicating the angry rope marks she had. She pushed her sleeves down so he couldn’t see them, an almost unconscious show of discomfort with a reminder of having been rendered vulnerable recently. Castiel could relate.

“I kind of think you’re not sure which side you’re on either,” said Meg. The elevator dinged as it reached it’s destination and Castiel stepped out of it quickly. Meg stopped him by reaching out to grip his arm and looked him in the eye. “Just remember what you’re going to be losing, before you do anything stupid. I remember what it was like being in a garrison. You have a chance to get that back. Don’t blow it”

“I won’t,” said Castiel. He shook his arm loose and Meg let him. “I have a long drive, if you’ll excuse me.”

Castiel drove much later than he should have that night, trying not to think about what Meg had said to him. He didn’t want to go to sleep. He knew somehow it the nightmares would be worse than usual that night. Eventually, however, he could no longer justify to himself that he wasn’t at all tired when he had almost swerved off the road three times. So he pulled over and within five minutes was fast asleep.

*************

It wasn’t the dream in the garden this time. Recently it hadn’t been. It had been the dreams of what had actually happened, with his garrison standing in the basement of a resistance testing facility in which they had been genetically engineering humans to act as weapons. Anna’s garrison had been sent in to rescue the children until it was discovered that they were too dangerous and unstable to be reeducated by the state and the order had come through for them to remove the threat.

Anna had refused, and then the order had come through to Castiel to shoot her.

As with every other time, Castiel looked at Anna and she saw the expression on his face. She didn’t say anything, but she closed her eyes, waiting for the inevitable. Every other soldier in Anna’s garrison had no idea what was happening, still waiting for Anna to give further instructions. They didn’t know Castiel was supposed to kill their Commander, and Castiel was sure there had been mild alarm when he’d removed the safety on his gun. Yet like every time this had happened in Castiel’s mind before, he couldn’t do it. He could never do it, even knowing what he now knew. So he raised the gun to his head instead, and Anna yelled in an effort to stop him when she realized what was happening, just as she always did. However, this time everything froze when she did so, right before the shot that had killed her went off. Castiel lowered the gun, and the Anna that had haunted his dreams was looking at him. Less a memory he supposed and more a projection of his own psyche. Or perhaps Anna truly was haunting him in more than just a figurative sense.

“You’ve never been in this dream before,” he told her. She shrugged, eyes sharp and expression disapproving.

“I wanted to make a point,” she said.

“Which is?”

“You still don’t know which one of them shot me,” Anna said. Time unfroze for a moment, the shot ringing out and blood began to darken Anna’s uniform. “Just something to think about.”

*************


	3. Sings the Tune (Part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See end notes for a warning that has spoilers in it.*

JANUARY 8, 111 A.L. - 30 MILES OUTSIDE INVIDIA

There were no vans or jeeps in the clearing that had been put aside for resistance vehicles when Castiel finished the three day drive back to Invidia. His first reaction to this was mild anxiety as he did his best to figure out what he might have done to show his hand and cause anyone in the resistance to regain their suspicion of him. There was nothing he could think of, and so he tried to look for other logical reasons they might no longer be at the old camp site.

They could all be dead.

Castiel looked around and was relieved to find no signs of struggle, or an attack. Probably not dead then. Or if they were, they had moved before then. Perhaps this Bobby they kept talking about had finally allowed them to join him and act as reinforcements. They knew how long it should have taken Castiel to drive from Invidia to Superbia and back again. That being the case, someone should be back soon to check if he had arrived.

Having nothing else to do, Cas decided to eat what was left of the food he’d been provided for the trip and sit, slumped against the side of the car so he could enjoy the sunlight. The lack of sleep he had gotten over the past several days had him dozing on and off as the afternoon wore on, and he had his eyes closed when he finally heard the distant rumble of an engine. He opened his eyes to see a jeep driving towards him. His back ached as he picked himself off the ground and gestured the jeep over. Two seconds later, the jeep had pulled over and parked and Charlie was out of the jeep and grinning at him.

“Hi Charlie-“ Castiel started and stopped in surprise when she walked over to him and hugged him.

“I think my cat loves you more than me. She’s been sulking the whole time you’ve been gone,” she said when she let him go. “Can you not pet her so much? I can’t deal with high standards.”

“Um, yes, certainly,” said Cas, doing his best not to stare. He finally noticed Charlie hadn’t come alone when he saw a familiar flash of green behind Charlie. Selma waved when she saw that Castiel had noticed her and Cas waved back. “Selma. It’s good to see you.”

“Likewise,” Selma said. “We were worried. I still think it was idiotic for you to go back, but what do I know?”

Cas rolled his eyes and then made to get back behind the wheel of his car. Charlie stopped him and shook her head.

“Nope, we are not using that. Someone might have put a tracker on it,” she said. “We’re just going to leave it sitting pretty here.”

Castiel remembered the device he could use to inform Naomi of their new location that was sitting in his pocket. He pushed the thought aside, but the smile still fell from his face. He wasn’t here to make friends, he reminded himself. At least, not real ones.

He wished that Charlie hadn’t hugged him.

Charlie drove and Selma took the passenger seat so she could navigate. Castiel gratefully took up the back, making use of supplies and blankets that were stuffed under the front seats to make a kind of pillow so he could try to rest more before he had to once more be alert and pay attention to everything that was happening around him. Being a double agent could be very mentally exhausting.

Sleeping, it turned out, was an unrealistic goal since Charlie started speaking about ten minutes into the drive, looking back at Cas nervously.

“Jo wanted to be here too, you know,” she said, tapping against the steering wheel. She chanced a glance at Cas through the mirror before returning her attention to the road and avoiding any trees that might have fallen into their path. She also made sure to favor the parts of the street that had less cracks and potholes. She still managed a decent forty miles per hour, to her credit. “She just wasn’t sure if you’d… she’s sorry.”

“I told her I forgive her,” Castiel pointed out. “I meant it.”

“Yeah, that’s what I said,” said Charlie, letting out a sigh. “It’s just… you know Jo.”

“I’m glad you two are talking again,” Castiel said. Selma very skillfully masked a snort at this, and Charlie threw her a look before clearing her throat. Noticing her discomfort with the subject, Castiel decided to change it. “Tell Jo that I wish the worst thing someone has done to me is shot me in the leg. She’s done nothing unforgivable.”

“That… okay, Cas,” said Charlie. “Quick talk: You know that voice in your head that tells you not to share depressing, personal details in the same tone of voice you use to say you don’t like doing laundry?”

“No?”

“Yeah, that’s kind of my point,” said Charlie. “Selma, back me up here.”

“I think what Charlie means,” said Selma carefully. “Is if you’re in pain, you don’t have to act like it’s unimportant.”

Castiel leaned up from his makeshift pillow to see Selma looking back at him in concern. Her brow was furrowed in concern that he didn’t deserve. He could feel himself frown at her, and lowered himself back down and closed his eyes.

“I’m tired,” he said. “No need for either of you to worry. I’m just… tired.”

The both of them stayed quiet for a while after that, but eventually went back to small talk between the two of them, keeping their voices low. They probably thought he was sleeping, and Castiel did try to his credit. It was no use though, since by the time they reached the resistance outpost outside Invidia, he hadn’t managed even a moment of rest.

“Hey Cas,” said Charlie, nudging him in the side. “We’re here.”

Castiel sat up and replaced the supplies under the seat before exiting the car and following Selma and Charlie. His eyes widened at the very permanent buildings and businesses he saw around him. He knew of course, that a large amount of the resistance must participate in some manner in the state’s economy for them to stay alive, and also that there were many civilians that were sympathetic to their cause but didn’t actually do anything to create disorder in the state themselves. It was one of the things that made targeting them so difficult, as it was almost impossible in many circumstances to differentiate between civilians and combatants. This being said, his experience with Dean’s method of operation had led him to believe that members who were more organized tended to stay mobile and move around frequently.

And yet, here was an entire town of people living their lives and they might all be involved in resistance efforts, not just a select few. They certainly operated within state systems and many of them were likely citizens of the state. It suddenly made a lot more sense that Zachariah hadn’t attacked yet, especially if he already had a weapon ready to use against them. He would have a certain amount of pushback that needed to be dealt with before outright attacking what at first glance appeared to be normal civilians.

The place they were now was a kind of town square, with a place that offered basic repairs for machinery, a doctor’s office, a bar, and various places that sold food. The food that was produced in their farming was likely sold to the cities, or at the very least Invidia. How as Zachariah planning on replacing the labor he was going to lose? If Castiel had to place a guess, perhaps eight or nine thousand people lived in this town alone, and even more must inhabit the farms that surrounded it.

“This isn’t what I was expecting,” said Cas watching the evening bustle. Selma and Charlie looked around and then at him, looking fairly amused. Selma said something about going to get Dean and then left while Castiel was still taking in the town. “They can’t move can they? If Zachariah makes a move, I mean. This is home for them.”

“Yeah,” Charlie confirmed. “Jody’s the one who reached out to Mary and asked if they could help out in any way about fifteen years back. Mostly the resistance just wanted food- that was before we sorted that resource out for good- but apparently Jody was pretty insistent they could stir up some trouble in Invidia. She goes between a lot of the different farming communities to make sure everyone’s okay, but she lives here with Bobby and Ellen. They’re together.”

“Bobby and Ellen are?” Castiel asked more out of a need for clarification than real interest. He found himself looking at the children playing in the square and recognizing thirteen year old Isaac Truman, who he had seen previously in Dean’s camp. He appeared to be playing some form of game with other boys and girls his age. He was probably happy about that, since he was one of the older children at camp, but wasn’t yet old enough to be allowed to do anything like Kevin was.

“No like… they’re all together,” Charlie said. “Bobby and Ellen and Jody. Everyone here is cool about it, but I just thought I’d tell you because I know the state can get weird about… well, pretty much everything that doesn’t fit into how you’re ‘supposed’ to live.”

“You think I’ll make inappropriate comments about it,” Castiel interpreted to himself. Charlie nodded, though she looked a bit sorry about it. “The state is technically fine with living arrangements that aren’t traditional and has a better record as far as allowing-“

“I’ve heard the propaganda, Cas,” said Charlie. “The Age of Light has a nice ring to it, if you don’t think very hard. But if anyone speaks out against the state, for any reason, they end up dead or worse. Not that you would know that, because they don’t advertise anything people might react against. Like the fact-”

“Am I interrupting?” asked Dean, breaking in before Castiel could get a word in edgewise.

“Kinda,” said Charlie. Dean gave her a look and she sighed. “Alright, we can talk about why the state sucks later. I’m assuming Jody probably wants me back to look at intelligence reports.”

“You got it,” Dean said with a nod. Charlie walked off, and Castiel made to follow her but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. “Nope. You’re coming with me to see Dr. Newman and make sure you’re leg isn’t infected and that you’ve got a decent set of painkillers.”

“I’m fine,” said Castiel as Dean started to push him towards the place that was marked as a doctor’s office. “I really don’t need-“

“Yeah, Selma could hit me with a throwing knife from twenty feet away. If she says you need to go to the doctor, I’m not going to argue,” said Dean, continuing to push him in the correct direction. “‘Sides, I’d prefer the one guy we got on the inside in Superbia not die anytime soon.”

“I’m not going to die.”

“You say that, but Sam told me about your little share and care time back in December. Wanna know what hearing that particular story told me?” asked Dean, looking Cas straight in the eyes. “Well, what it told me was that you’ve got a pretty high tolerance for pain and you’re a fucking idiot. Go see Newman. Then we need to talk about what you did with Meg.”

“I took care of it.”

“I was thinking more specific than that. Later though,” said Dean, giving him one last shove through the door and then immediately turning around to go off and do something else Castiel was sure was more important than forcing him to see a doctor. He’d already let Dr. Newman take the bullet out of his leg and bandage him and the doctor had said he’d likely be fine. Sure, he’d suggested not walking on it immediately, but that was what the painkillers had been for. It also wouldn’t have been good for Naomi to hear about him getting shot, since it wouldn’t have supported the fact that the people under Dean’s command trusted him now.

“Castiel,” said Dr. Newman when he caught sight of Castiel, gesturing for him to come over. “Dean said I gotta make sure that leg of yours is healing up. Which’d be simpler if I had any fucking equipment. Feel free to tell Dean that.”

“I don’t think my endorsement would help, but I’ll pass the message along if you want me to,” said Cas. Dr. Newman let out a long suffering sigh and waited for Castiel to remove his pants so he could take off the bandages and check the gunshot wound. As Castiel had thought, he was fine. Dr. Newman seemed to concur, though he wasn’t entirely happy with Cas for going on an almost week long car trip after having been shot.

“Give yourself a rest, my man,” said Dr. Newman. “It’s not infected, but this swelling’s gonna hurt like a motherfucker once we get you off painkillers if you don’t let it heal up. Try resting with your feet up, it might help. And don’t run around like a crazy person.”

“I’ll take that under consideration,” said Cas. Dr. Newman bandaged the wound again with fresh dressing, making a noise halfway between amused and ticked off when Cas said this. He handed over more painkillers, which Castiel was directed to take only when necessary. Castiel took them without comment so he wouldn’t be yelled at, but he’d already decided not to use them. They jangled as he placed them in the pocket on the inside of his jacket.

“I can give ya a note if you need, in case Benny makes up bullshit for you to do,” said Dr. Newman. “And don’t think I won’t tell Charlie my recommendations. That girl could get a pig to fly, I swear to God.”

The thought of Charlie hovering over him and getting upset when he ignored Dr. Newman’s suggestions was not a pleasant one. Castiel decidedly did not want that to happen.

“If you keep them to yourself, I might be able to stop by a state medical facility the next time I report to Naomi and…. borrow some things for you. Small things,” Castiel rushed to add at the end, seeing the sudden gleam in Dr. Newman’s eyes.

“I hear y’all have some nice tech,” said Dr. Newman slowly. “Growing skin and organs and shit from mechanical stem cells. If the rumors are true, some state facilities got machines the size of a pen that can locate tumors and cancerous cells and kill ‘em. And what I wouldn’t give for some proper goddamn anesthesia-“

“I’ll do my best,” Castiel promised. “And you don’t say a word to Charlie. Do we have a deal?”

“Yeah, we got a deal,” said Dr. Newman. He smiled with a look in his eye that told Castiel he was day dreaming about getting his hands on state technology. Cas had managed to redress himself by the time Dr. Newman broke himself out of it. “Hey, one more thing though.”

“Yes?” Castiel asked, patience starting to wear thin. Dr. Newman rolled his eyes at this, and it struck Castiel that many of his patients probably treated him like this. It wasn’t a sobering enough thought to convince Castiel to stop.

“You might wanna be careful around Jo,” said the doctor. “Traumatic events can cause anxiety or panic, and she might set off-“

“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” said Cas, eager to leave. Dr. Newman frowned but seemed to come to the conclusion Cas had heard similar speeches before and would do as he saw fit. He would be correct on both counts. He’d been shot by resistance forces three times in his ten years under Anna, and he hadn’t had a problem before, and he doubted he would have one now.

As he exited the building, Castiel realized he was unsure where exactly he should be going next. He looked around for a friendly face, and after a few minutes caught sight of Boris, who was sitting next to a woman reading a book. Castiel raised a hand in greeting and Boris nodded at him unenthusiastically. It was less than encouraging, but Castiel only wanted to know where Charlie was living or where he could find someone who could give him something to do.

“Hello Boris,” Castiel said when he walked up to the two of them. The woman next to him put her book down at the sound of his voice and looked at Boris. He grimaced at her interest.

“Aren’t you going to introduce me, dear?” the woman said.

“You know who he is,” Boris said. He tilted his head toward the woman, jerkily. “Her name’s Harriet.”

“Forgive my husband, he’s never been polite a day in his life,” said Harriet, reaching out to shake Castiel’s hand. It trembled as she reached out, and when Castiel looked at her more closely he noted she was very thin. Boris noticed his expression and narrowed his eyes.

“You got a problem?” he asked quietly. Rage simmered at the edge of his expression and Castiel tried to think of a polite way to say the obvious.

“He’s probably wondering what’s wrong with me, Boris,” said Harriet, in a soothing voice. She reached out to rub his arm, causing Boris to relax by degrees. Then she raised her head to look at Castiel. “Cancer. What a drag, right?”

“Dr. Newman-“ Castiel started, looking over his shoulder back at the building.

“Can’t do shit,” Boris interrupted. “Did you want something?”

If they lived in the city, Harriet could probably get treatment. There was no guarantee that she would survive but state hospitals were excellent. Then again, they didn’t take in anyone who wasn’t in the state system. There were many people at the fringes of cities that couldn’t go to the hospital because of this. They were still citizens, of course, but they couldn’t enjoy some of the benefits of being so without fully committing to the state.

“I just wanted to know where Charlie is, or where she’s staying,” Castiel said. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”

“I think she’s staying with Dean and Jo above Ellen’s place,” said Boris. “Go down 2nd for a while. Once you see the sign saying Harvelle’s you’re there.”

“Harvelle’s?” Castiel asked. “Is… is that a common surname?”

“She’s Jo’s mother if that’s what you’re asking,” said Harriet. “Anything else we can help you with?”

Castiel almost said yes so he could continue asking questions, but the warning glare he got from Boris had him snapping his mouth shut and shaking his head.

“No, I’m fine,” he said. “I’m sorry for your health.”

“There’s already an entire club of people for that, dear,” said Harriet, though she smiled when she said it. “No need to join.”

Castiel nodded at her and then at Boris and left. He glanced around once to see Boris reaching out to take his wife’s hand. He wasn’t sure how to feel about the sight.

He found Harvelle’s without much trouble, which was good because he felt out of place in the streets, surrounded by people going about their daily lives. Those that noticed him had trouble not whispering amongst themselves and stopping when he got close enough to hear. In order to stand out a little less, Castiel had taken to slumping and favoring shaded areas. It worked to a degree, but everyone here seemed to know everyone else and as a new face that made it difficult to be entirely ignored.

Harvelle’s looked to be some sort of bar that reminded Castiel very much of Light’s Out Bar. He wondered if Ellen and Kali knew each other. If Ellen was Jo’s mother, she had likely at least heard of the other woman, as Kali provided them with a good deal of their alcohol in return for services rendered. What most of these services were, Castiel still wasn’t privy to.

He walked in to find the place mostly empty. Dean, Sam, and Charlie were there, at least, all three of them huddled around a table with another man and woman that Castiel had yet to meet. They were speaking quietly to each other, but they stopped when they heard the door closing behind Cas. Everyone’s eyes snapped back to him, and Castiel lifted his hand for a small hello. Charlie waved back at him, but the man and woman went back to ignoring him and talking to each other.

“What’d Newman say?” Dean asked. Castiel walked closer to him and Charlie. The wood floor creaked under his feet, and he had to maneuver around a pool table in order to reach them.

“He said I was perfectly fine,” said Castiel bitterly. “Just like I told you.”

“Wow, I never thought I’d meet someone worse than Tamara about getting injured,” said Sam, grinning to himself at Castiel’s response. Dean raised his eyebrows at his brother. “What? It’s true.”

“Well, good news, then,” said Dean. “Since you have so much practice, why don’t you babysit him and make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid for a while? I’ll catch you up later.”

Charlie snickered at Sam’s look of betrayal.

“Why do I have to babysit him? I thought that was Charlie’s job,” said Sam.

“I don’t need to be watched,” Castiel said, knowing full well that in the interest of their wellbeing they should have him watched. Then again, no one acknowledged his opinion anyway.

“I need Charlie here,” Dean pointed out. “Besides, I need someone to find the twins and then check in on Gordon, Tamara, and Benny.”

Castiel didn’t miss the way Dean subtly tilted his head in Castiel’s direction even as he said that. Sam still looked irritated, but he nodded almost imperceptibly in answer. It was easy enough to figure out what Dean was really saying. Charlie liked Castiel and even if she was instructed to keep an eye on him, after saving his life she would give him the benefit of the doubt. Sam had no such sentiments to prevent him from seeing Castiel clearly.

There was an air of impatience to Sam that Castiel took comfort in, considering on the whole he was rather unreadable. Dean, as well as he managed to control everyone around him, wasn’t one to keep his feelings in check. Sam was a different story and besides being aware that Sam vaguely disliked him, Castiel wasn’t sure where he stood with the younger Winchester.

“Follow me,” Sam said to Castiel, who did so despite his earlier protestations. Despite lacking confidence in his ability to win over Sam, he knew it was important if he wanted Dean to drop whatever defenses he was keeping against him. As long as Sam was unsure of Castiel, Dean would have to at least entertain the idea that Castiel was an unsure thing. He might even be depending on Sam keeping a level head, because if nothing else Dean was one to look out for his own, if his insistence on Castiel receiving medical attention was any indication.

Sam weaved through the crowded streets with an ease Castiel couldn’t hope to match, waving at friendly faces and stopping to quickly greet people on occasion. Their progress was slower than Castiel would have liked, but Sam didn’t seem worried and for the most part didn’t care what Castiel did as long as he remained close by.

It was no issue to follow Sam until Castiel caught sight of Jo up the road.

Castiel melted back into the shadows without a word before Sam could raise his hand in greeting. He watched from what he refused to term a hiding place that was twenty feet from Sam as he and Jo exchanged a few words before she walked off in the direction of Harvelle’s. Castiel reappeared by Sam’s side without comment and ignored the curious look he was given.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Castiel said, ignoring the echoing of gunshots inside his head. “I needed to tie my shoe.”

Sam was outright staring at him now, seemingly caught between amusement and disbelief. Castiel didn’t think either was an appropriate response, but what did he know.

“Aren’t we supposed to be finding Jessica and Cordelia?” Castiel prompted. Sam nodded, expression now thoughtful as he focused once more on finding who needed to be found.

Castiel tried to pay attention to where they were, but there was an astounding lack of street signs or any sort of grid structure to the town. The roads seemed to bleed into each other, and although he noted landmarks as they walked, he soon realized he would likely have little luck making his way back to Harvelle’s without asking instructions. Sam navigated the space easily however, and if his familiarity with the people here hadn’t already confirmed that this was a place Dean and his people frequented, that would have.

It wasn’t longer than twenty minutes before they had reached farmland. The particular field they were on wasn’t currently being used for crops, which was lucky because even as they were walking onto the field there was a loud sound of something exploding and a bright flash to match. Castiel just barely resisted the urge to dive for cover. If Sam saw him flinch he didn’t mention.

The twins emerged from where they had been observing the explosions behind a barrier made of thick glass. Castiel suspected it was something they had acquired from within the town, and likely not cheaply. The twins eyes were sparkling and they exchanged excited conversation before they noticed Castiel and Sam walking up to them.

“Hey Sam,” said one of them—Jessica, Castiel was pretty sure. “Cas.”

Definitely Jessica. Cordelia wouldn’t have acknowledged him, whether he’d saved Charlie’s life or not.

“Hi Jess,” said Sam pleasantly. “How are you two doing?”

“Good,” said Cordelia. “I think we’ve finally got something that’s working decent. Dean’ll be happy.”

“Yeah, I saw,” Sam said, flicking his head back to indicate the small crater that had been left after their most recent experiment. “Seeing that makes me wish we could break into a state lab. See what you girls can really do.”

“Yeah, I miss quality control,” Jessica said wistfully. “And interns.”

“But you know, not the whole death threat thing,” Cordelia said, smacking her sister’s arm to break her out of her reverie. “Besides, I think there’s something to be said for scrapping stuff like this together. It’s like home made cooking over the factory shit we get from his royal assness. Just tastes better.”

Castiel knew a large portion of the food Dean’s particular branch of the militia lived off of was donated, though he had yet to figure out who was doing so. He knew it must be a country outside of the state, but learning foreign relations had never been encouraged for soldiers, so he was woefully under informed when it came to foreign events. Still, last he had checked the only monarchy close enough to send regular shipments of food would be…

“You must have struck quite the deal with Canada,” Castiel commented quietly. Sam sent a pointed look in Cordelia’s direction but didn’t do much for damage control. Perhaps he had a higher opinion of Castiel than the soldier originally thought.

“The New Kingdom and the state aren’t exactly allies,” Sam ended up saying. “East or West.”

“They’ve split?”

“Yeah, like five years ago,” Sam said. He frowned at Cas. “They really don’t tell you guys much, huh?”

“We know what we need to know. I know more than most, by virtue of my place as a double agent. I like to think my intellect plays a role as well, but understanding is often only attained through having the correct information at the correct moment for it to make sense,” said Castiel. “And that is more luck than anything.”

“Right,” said Sam. He looked back at Cordelia and Jessica, who both looked as though they wanted to return to making things explode. “Dean needs you guys. Head over to Harvelle’s, and I’ll see you in a while.”

The twins trudged off sullenly at having been ordered away from their work. Sam, on the other hand, went behind their glass shield to look over the notes they’d left behind to return to later. Castiel followed him.

Sam’s eyes scanned the equations on the paper with a speed that betrayed familiarity. He quickly replaced them, looking impressed with the math and observations. Castiel glanced at them as well, but the numbers were meaningless to him.

“You were good at this,” Castiel said, knowing he was stating the obvious. Sam frowned at him but nodded. “But you left.”

Sam nodded. Castiel searched for a way to address what he wanted to know, but Sam beat him to the punch.

“You want to know why?” Sam asked, not looking the least bit surprised that Castiel knew about that. Then again, it was a major point of contention as far as Selma had told Castiel. It was why Gordon disliked Sam so much and Kubrick believed he needed to atone. “Because they were doing things I didn’t agree with, and when I said something they didn’t take to it too kindly. Let’s just say there are reasons Jess and I avoid anything with mind altering properties.”

“And Cordelia-“

“Is good at pretending to follow orders and actually starting fires,” said Sam. “She got us out, and once I was sane enough again I got us to safety.”

“To Dean.”

“Yeah,” Sam affirmed. He glanced at Castiel and for the first time Cas saw a spark of sympathy in his eyes. “Y’know it’s not weird to have doubts here, right? The state’s good at what they do. The propaganda, the insistence that in order to be worth something you have to be serving the state and its cause.”

“You grew up in Acedia,” Castiel said. Sam hummed an agreement and started walking back toward town. Castiel fell into step. “You and Dean.”

“Yeah.”

“And he wasn’t influenced by the… ‘propaganda’?” asked Castiel. Sam shook his head.

Perhaps he had been too old to be effectively integrated into society, Castiel mused. Or too stubborn. Either way, it still seemed odd to Castiel that the two brothers had differed so sharply on their impressions of the state considering the level of faith they seemed to have in each other. Perhaps it was something that had transcended politics, or perhaps Dean had forgiven anything he might have held against his younger brother for believing in the state.

“And what about you, Castiel?” asked Sam as they walked along. “Are you from Superbia originally or…?”

“No,” said Castiel, stopping momentarily to let someone pass ahead of him and Sam. The man gave a weary thanks. He did have a moment to look back at Castiel suspiciously after he realized who he was. Castiel kept walking. “Soldiers consider no city to be their home. We are loyal to the state as a whole and serve the cities at the Lightbringer’s command. I was, however, born in Libidine. Do these people know who I am?”

Sam frowned at the sudden change in topic.

“Yeah, we had to tell them. You’re not exactly subtle and state training has its tells. Them knowing is mostly for your safety. Soldiers don’t… they almost never defect. You know that.”

That was true. Still, it wasn’t pleasant to know that he was now surrounded by people he knew little about who knew everything that mattered about him. It wasn’t something he had bothered to hide either, and how could he? His status as a soldier was his entire life, and his garrison was most of what he knew about the world.

Castiel didn’t say any of this and Sam watched him carefully before he went back to his cautious questioning.

“So, Libidine,” said Sam. “Do you think your parents might-“

“I don’t remember them very well,” said Castiel. “Aptitude tests occur at age nine in Libidine. After that I was sent to Superbia to train for my profession. I’ve had no contact with any relatives since. I’m sure you know that and are attempting to see if I have some sort of nostalgia for people that had barely any impact on my life, perhaps as a means of future black mail should I prove unmanageable.”

“You told Selma your mom asked you be raised Christian,” said Sam, refusing to acknowledge the accusations Castiel had made. “There has to be something there if you’ve held onto it after all these years.”

“Are you speaking from experience?” Castiel asked, noting the surprised flinch on Sam’s face. “My mother allowed me to be sent away so I could serve my purpose to the state, ensuring her and my own prosperity. It’s not an entirely foreign experience to you, even if the details were rather different. Perhaps you’re projecting onto me your own need to remain close to a distant mother.”

“Selma’s got a big mouth, huh?” Sam inferred, gritting his teeth slightly before seeming to let the anger roll off of him. “Here’s a tip, I might be reasonable, but if you talk about our mom like that in front of Dean he might finally snap and hit you.”

“You’d enjoy that,” Castiel observed, noting that although Sam seemed to be telling him not to, he didn’t look put off by the idea of watching Dean attack him. “I suppose I could provoke him, if you’d find it entertaining.”

Sam rolled his eyes at the offer and kept walking until he found Benny. He waved to catch the man’s attention. Once they got close enough, Sam asked how everything was going and Benny promptly answered that everyone he was responsible for was accounted for. He nodded briefly at Castiel and then went back to doing what he had been before, which appeared to be helping move stored food to a defensible position. It was clear they were expecting to be attacked soon.

Tamara was similarly efficient with her report when Sam found her, though Sam took a moment to inquire after her personally as well. Castiel averted his eyes as they spoke, feeling as though he were perhaps invading on a private moment. Their voices were lowered, and faces close together in muted intimacy. After Sam had had his moment with his wife, he returned to Castiel and they walked further on to find Gordon.

“She’s older than you,” Castiel found himself saying. Sam’s eyebrows scrunched up as he took in what Castiel was saying. Once he had they smoothed out and his face went dangerously blank.

“Yeah,” he said tonelessly. “She likes to remind me about that, too.”

“You seem to care a great deal about each other.”

“We do,” Sam said shortly. “Something you want to say about it?”

“I’m merely trying to work out the intricacies of nepotism and whether or not its beneficial as a method of organizing a militia,” said Castiel. He could see the gears turning in Sam’s head as he realized what Castiel was implying. “Not to insult you, but you make little sense as a second in command from a strategic point of view. You’re younger than all of the captains and have a history of disloyalty to the cause.”

Sam took this much better than he did any questioning of his relationship. Perhaps that was more fragile than it appeared. Castiel took note.

“Dean knows what he’s doing,” was all he had to say to that. He caught sight of Gordon and scowled. “Not that everyone agrees.”

Gordon was much less pleasant to deal with than Benny or Tamara had been. He was hesitant to share any news with Sam and had to be reminded three times that Dean had ordered reports be sent in before he hesitantly admitted there were no pressing issues and fortification efforts were going smoothly. He made a show of not wanting Castiel to hear what he was sharing, which resulted in no small amount of frustrated expressions on Sam’s part. After much tooth pulling, Sam had the information he needed out of Gordon and they were on their way.

“Where are the other captains?” asked Castiel.

“Protecting other rural areas,” Sam responded. “Jody’s helping to set up easy communication between us and the others. Risa, Linda, and Rufus are all guarding areas sympathetic to our interests, in case Zachariah makes a play against them too.”

Castiel stopped walking. That was not good news.

“So you have the city surrounded.”

Sam stopped walking too, and turned around in confusion at Castiel’s obvious discomfort with that.

“That’s not what we’re doing.”

“That’s what it will look like,” said Castiel. “After Libidine fell, Zachariah is going to be even more wary than he would be otherwise.”

“He was going to attack anyway,” Sam said. Castiel shook his head, not liking at all the picture that was forming in his head.

“Yes, but he was going to do so as a show of force, to impress the other mayors,” said Castiel. “Now he has to think of what might happen if you attack. The state still doesn’t know the specifics of how Libidine fell as far as I’m aware. Everyone is uncertain, and with resistance forces increasing in number outside Invidia and then surrounding the city? You could have given Zachariah an excuse to use excessive force with impunity.”

“What does that mean?” Sam asked, expression sharp. “You know something.”

“Yes,” Castiel agreed. “How do we get back to Harvelle’s?”

Sam didn’t seem to want to cooperate until Castiel told him what he knew, so Castiel started walking in the direction he thought was correct. He stiffened when he felt a hand on his shoulder, but Sam was just pointing him toward a different road. Castiel nodded his thanks and quickly made his way back towards the establishment where resistance leadership had taken up.

To say they were slightly surprised when Castiel burst in and started angrily lecturing them would be an understatement.

“How can you all think it would be at all strategic to present yourselves as an effective threat?” Castiel said, not caring for a moment that they were staring at him. “Sending three factions to various points around the city? You have to know that looks like you’re moving to attack.”

“Cas-“ Dean said, rolling his eyes. Castiel wasn’t done however.

“You have no idea what you’ve started,” said Castiel. “They haven’t decided on the next Lightbringer yet. Traditionally the mayor of Superbia takes the position once the previous Lightbringer has died, but for whatever reason that isn’t happening. If what I’m guessing is correct, Zachariah is making a play for the position, and decimating resistance forces would suit him nicely.”

Now he had their attention.

“Well, shit,” said Ellen, who seemed to have grasped the implications of this before her companions. “If they can say we’re moving aggressively against them, then-“

“Violent retribution will be seen as a necessary measure,” Castiel confirmed. The grim expressions of Ellen and Bobby had his anger lessening. “Garrisons are ordered to avoid killing citizens, even suspected traitors, as a rule but if a hostile take over were suspected-“

“Those rules mean shit. Thanks,” muttered Bobby. He looked at Dean. “Did you know about this?”

Dean didn’t say anything, but he did walk up to Castiel and drag him away from the others to a side room. Castiel glared at where Dean was yanking at his arm, but that didn’t stop him before he’d closed a door between them and the others. Castiel wondered what the point of privacy was when it was very urgent they switched tactics quickly.

“Let’s get one thing straight,” Dean said before Castiel could ask him just what he thought he was doing. “You don’t undermine me. You don’t say anything to anyone before you tell me, and definitely don’t fucking shout it where anyone can hear.”

“People could die,” said Castiel, not liking Dean’s obvious attempt to intimidate him. “My apologies for trying to prevent that.”

“I know what I’m doing,” said Dean. Castiel made a disbelieving noise before he could stop himself and Dean narrowed his eyes. “Zachariah wasn’t going through with this without taking a good chunk of the people causing him trouble anyway. He just would have had to work on his PR a little. Now that sucks, but its a fact of life and not one I want these good people to have to live knowing about.”

“You don’t think they should be left without proper information or-“

“I don’t want them to panic,” said Dean. “And send away people who can actually help them. If we do our jobs, they’ll be safe and Zachariah might just lose a bit of his hold on the city.”

“You can’t take the city.”

“I’m not trying to,” said Dean, sighing in frustration. “Cas, really think about it. Zach wants to be the next Lightbringer and diplomacy isn’t working. What’s he going to try next?”

“Force. We’ve already covered this.”

“Not that simple. He’s going to try to prove that he’s got a new way of doing things. Why manipulate people into being good little citizens when you can murder them into doing it? Less mouths to feed that way,” Dean pointed out, raising an eyebrow. “That’s a lot of good people dead if we aren’t here to defend them. I get that you care about the difference between who’s involved in the fight and who’s a civilian, but I promise you he doesn’t.”

“But you’ve given him a defense to use. The other mayors will have to take that into consideration,” Castiel pushed. “What they might have questioned will seem like a reasonable response. If you leave, your cause might gain more supporters out of sympathy, and likely less people will die in an ensuing hunt for traitors that this might set off.”

“Yeah, well I’m not looking big picture right now,” said Dean. “I’m thinking about the people who are going to die right now if we don’t at least try to do something. That alright with you?”

Castiel supposed he could see Dean’s point. If Zachariah were committed enough to gaining traction in a bid for power, it might be inevitable for him to act aggressively against resistance forces. That being said, Dean’s actions certainly solidified the chances of a confrontation, and even if it was to protect everyone here, it was hard not to see how it would ultimately be counted as a win for the resistance if they defied Zachariah on this front.

“You’re unpleasant and secretive,” said Castiel. It was perhaps childish, but it made him feel better nonetheless.

“Yeah, okay sunshine. One, you have no room to talk,” said Dean. “And B, I make sure everyone knows what they need to know. Bobby, Ellen, and Jody needed to know that there was a threat and that we could help them handle it. They didn’t need to know that everyone they care about might be dead soon. People work better when they’re not fucking terrified.”

There was no point in arguing further, so Castiel didn’t say anything at all. That actually seemed to get at Dean more than anything else had.

“Oh so now it’s the silent treatment. Great. I can really see why your file is an inch thick, God,” Dean muttered. “How did the state not get rid of you for being trouble?”

Castiel didn’t respond. Dean rolled his eyes and went to open the door. Castiel stopped him. He did his best to swallow his pride and remind himself that Zachariah not humiliating the resistance forces was in Naomi’s interests, and as she controlled his reassignment with his garrison, it was within his interests too.

“Sweet Dreams is a gaseous chemical weapon. It causes hallucinations,” Castiel said flatly. “That might be relevant.”

Dean looked back at the still closed door and seeming to realize that Cas had respected his request of telling him new information before anyone else. He frowned a moment, as though caught off guard, but found something else to be angry about quickly enough.

“Yeah, and it was relevant four hours ago too when you first got here. Why didn’t you tell me then?”

“You insisted I receive unnecessary medical attention, remember? Right after you asked me what I had done to Meg. I let her go, in case you were still wondering. Are you satisfied with my report now?” said Castiel. Before Dean could think of something to say about that, he opened the door and walked back out to see Bobby, Ellen, and Sam all staring at him. Charlie was still saying something, but she quickly stopped when she noticed they weren’t paying attention to her. She didn’t look happy.

“Let’s get dinner,” she said to Castiel without preamble. Castiel took that to mean that although he might be popular among Dean’s people now after having saved Charlie’s life, that meant little to Ellen and Bobby who had every reason still to be suspicious of him.

“Yes,” Castiel agreed easily. “Let’s.”

Dean had walked out after him and instantly sought to converse with his brother. Castiel wondered if it was narcissistic to assume it was about him.

JANUARY 12, 111 A.L. - SANCTUS (15 MILES OUTSIDE INVIDIA)

Castiel was ordered to act as Sam’s shadow during the fortification of the rural areas outside of Invidia. That meant that he mostly was witness to Dean’s people providing various weapons to the locals and helping them to make their town more defensible in the case of an attack. Several garrisons had been spotted close to the town Castiel had learned was known as Sanctus. It would be impossible for them to miss the influx of resistance forces or the fact the town was behaving abnormally. Despite this, they had yet to mount even a preliminary attack, which was making everyone anxious.

Other areas around the city hadn’t been as lucky, and word came in from both Risa and Rufus that there had been minor skirmishes in the rural areas that they were defending, and that there had been a few casualties, but though only locals had died. That hadn’t gone over well with the people of Sanctus, some of whom seemed to be thinking along the lines that Castiel was: if the resistance hadn’t come in, their people might not be at risk.

Castiel knew from talking to Charlie that Dean was currently in discussions with whoever was the current monarch of Eastern Canada for some sort of gas mask or method of protection and was frustrated with the lack of response. Apparently a good portion of Dean’s time was spent complaining about this, since they were virtually defenseless against the one weapon they knew for certain Zachariah might use against them.

Although it had taken some convincing, Castiel had at long last secured for him some time away from Sam. He had no doubt being forced to shadow him had been another one of Dean’s tests he was being subjected to, and it rightly disconcerted him how astute Sam was. Castiel might surprise him at times, but Sam was definitely starting to form a solid and informed opinion about him. Castiel just wasn’t sure what that opinion was.

He decided not to worry about it for now and instead enjoy being allowed to accompany Selma on her round of keeping a lookout for state forces from Invidia. Benny had allowed it with minimal taunting of Castiel, if only because Selma seemed happy to have his company.

“I don’t like the waiting,” Selma said, about halfway through her shift. “I just… if they’re going to attack, why not now? So it can be over with.”

“I don’t think you’re alone,” said Castiel. Everyone seemed twitchy, and it didn’t encourage confidence in their ability to respond well once the threat was at hand. “It makes sense for them to bide their time. It only means more opportunity for them to plan and for us to make a mistake that they can exploit.”

“That’s not helpful, Castiel,” Selma scolded with a sigh. She scanned the horizon before sighing again, her eyes unfocusing. “It feels different now than it used to. Before, it was always so futile. We fought because someone needed to, but since Libidine fell… what if we can change things? We need to be good enough, now, because there’s a chance where there never was before.”

“Libidine was a fluke,” said Castiel. Selma frowned at him and he raised his arms in surrender to her skillful glare. “No offense meant to you and yours, but its out the outskirts of the state and happened when garrisons were being recalled to Superbia to protect Naomi. It’s hardly a stunning military victory.”

“But it is a victory,” Selma pointed out. “And it means a lot to us. The tide is turning, you can feel it in the air. Even if we fail now, the state is going to fall eventually. It’s inertia. Things in motion tend to stay in motion. And the state has begun to topple.”

Castiel didn’t agree, but he kept that to himself. Selma gave him a sideways glance but seemed to be above picking fights with someone who wouldn’t indulge in them. She was wiser than most in that regard. Instead, she gracefully moved on to another subject.

“Cas, can I ask you something?” Selma said, voice now careful.

“Yes.”

“Why are you avoiding Jo?”

“I’m not,” he said, perhaps too quickly if Selma’s expression is anything to go by. “I ate lunch with her two days ago.”

“You barely spoke to her and left as soon as you could,” Selma countered. “I… I understand if it’s difficult after what happened, but disappearing every time she’s within fifteen feet of you isn’t helping you or her.”

“I’m not angry with her,” Castiel said. “I just-“

Castiel cut himself off. The truth of it is he just wished perhaps she’d aimed a little higher.

“It’s not something I’d like to discuss,” Castiel said at last. “I didn’t expect this reaction, and it can’t be helped. You can tell Jo that this aversion is not her fault if you think it will help.”

“It won’t,” Selma said, poking at Castiel’s side until he looks at her. She frowned at him in an exaggerated manner until she caught his mouth twitching in slight amusement. Then her face fell into complete seriousness, and Castiel caught on quickly that she was mocking him.

“And to think when I met you you almost threw a knife at me,” he said, causing her to smile. “You are much kinder to me than I deserve.”

“In all fairness, Benny was much crueler to you than you deserved. I think perhaps it balances out in the end,” said Selma. She went back to scanning the horizon, but Castiel could tell by the now serious tilt of her mouth that she wasn’t entirely done with him. “Jo is sad, and you can help.”

“I don’t think my company is worth so much that she won’t get over it,” Castiel said. Selma didn’t disagree.

“But she and Charlie are not on the best of terms. Betty’s my friend too, and Jo is too smart to ask me to pick sides.”

Castiel had not commented on Charlie’s recent preference for Betty as a bed partner, nor did he have plans to. He hadn’t had time to wonder how this would be affecting Jo, who had now that he thought about it confessed to him she loved Charlie a great deal. It likely didn’t help that Castiel was aware that Jo and Charlie’s sexual relationship hadn’t entirely stopped either. And he was sympathetic certainly, but he didn’t understand what anyone involved in the situation had been expecting. It was a natural consequence of relationships, sexual or romantic, that misunderstandings would occur. It was another reason the state had always insisted its soldiers refrain from attempting such relationships.

“I don’t think I would help.”

“Maybe not,” said Selma, sounding tired. She went back to scanning the horizon and froze, squinting at the distance. Castiel followed her eye line to several specks on the horizon. Judging by the fact they were following the road, he assumed they were cars of some sort. The glint coming off of them tipped Castiel off that they were likely state forces. Transport for garrisons was typically a a silver grey, since the state didn’t want to waste money on paint for vehicles that were often subject to serious abuse. Partly because of what unhappy citizens did to them, and partly because it wasn’t unheard of for soldiers to drive carelessly.

Castiel smiled a moment at a memory of Hael driving straight into a tree to prove to Mirabel that state vehicles had airbags. They didn’t as it turned out. Anna had been furious when she heard what had happened, but everyone had closed ranks and refused to tell her who exactly had crashed the car. Castiel had told Anna once she’d calmed down and assured her he’d exacted a promise from Hael that she would never do such a thing again, and had also been promised any candy that was included in her rations for the foreseeable future. Anna had let it go in return for half of these rations.

“They usually turn around by now,” Selma muttered, referring to the approaching trucks. Castiel supposed they were getting closer than the other scouts had. “We need to go warn everyone.”

They weren’t the only ones who saw. By the time they get back, Sanctus is a flurry of activity. Children were being ushered to Harvelle’s, whose basement had been stocked and prepared for this. Dr. Newman was among the parents helping to make this happen. He had several around him and was shushing them as they asked what was happening.

“Collin, I need you to set a good example for these little ladies, you hear me?” Dr. Newman said gently to the boy on his hip. The five year old nodded solemnly, and one of the girls at Newman’s feet crinkled her nose and put her hands on her hips.

“I’ll protect us all!” she proclaimed seriously, frowning up at Dr. Newman. “I’m the oldest, and the strongest. ‘Cept for Isaac and George… But I can help them.”

Newman laughed a little at her, but at her familiar little stubborn frown straightened his expression within a second.

“You’re going to make sure everyone is really brave, right?”

Emma nodded, smiling wide and revealing a toothy grin. If Castiel wasn’t already certain the girl was Dean’s daughter from his unintentional snooping, he had a suspicion he would have guessed if only for that half insolent half charming smile that was a carbon copy of her father’s.

“Uh huh,” she said. “Me and Aditi will fight anyone that tries to get in Mrs. Harvelle’s basement, pinky promise.”

“Ooh, pinky promise. That’s quite the oath there, little lady. You two…”

Castiel couldn’t hear them any longer as they turned the corner. Selma had noticed him watching and she squeezed his forearm gently in reassurance.

“They’ll be okay,” she said. “Let’s go see how we can help.”

They were quickly directed to where Benny was assigning positions and directions to everyone under his command. Selma and Castiel waited patiently for him to see them and Selma was quickly sent off to help Jo and Jessica distribute explosives along Sanctus’ perimeter. Castiel on the other hand was ignored.

“Should I be-“

“I’m not going to ask ya to do a thing” Benny said, still not looking at him. “Sit this one out, Cas.”

“I can help.”

Benny stopped what he was doing and looked at Castiel with an expression somewhere between irritation and spite. He crossed his arms and looked Castiel up and down.

“So you’re gonna look me in the eye and tell me that you can kill a fellow soldier, if you hafta?” asked Benny. Castiel didn’t have an answer to that. “Getting back at the state, that’s one thing, but for all you know, the people you served with are going to be the ones you’re shootin’ at. You catching my meaning, Castiel?”

“I could report positioning,” Castiel said in lieu of insisting he should be given a combative task to complete. “An extra pair of eyes isn’t something to scoff at.”

Benny frowned at him and shrugged.

“Fair enough,” he muttered. “But you don’t get a weapon. Just in case your priorities shift while you have a nice bird’s eye view. No offense meant.”

“I’m sure,” Castiel muttered, handing over the gun he’d been allowed to carry since he saved Charlie’s life. He received binoculars and a radio in its place. “Any news?”

“Yeah, they’ve stopped about half a mile out. Five cars.”

“Enough to hold one garrison,” said Castiel to himself. “That’s only twenty people.”

“For now,” Benny agreed. “If you see something-“

“I’ll let you know,” Castiel agreed. The tallest place he knew of in the current area was the top of a building Castiel had learned several days ago served as a communal dining area and doubled as an illicit school for the children to attend. The state allowed rural families the ability to opt out of aptitude tests for their children with the assumption they would go into agriculture and didn’t need a formal education for their work and that their family would teach them what they needed for their trade.

It was relatively easy to scale for Castiel, and once he was settled on the roof he used his binoculars to see what was happening. The five cars were indeed stopped a good distance outside town. They all seemed to be circling around one car, though Castiel couldn’t tell what they were doing to it. He turned on his radio so he could speak to Benny.

“They’re doing something to one of the cars,” said Castiel. “They only need four to leave. I think they mean to leave the one they’re tampering with behind.”

“Why kind of Trojan bullshit is this?” Benny said over the radio back to him. Castiel frowned.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Read a book.”

The resistance all fashioned themselves scholars apparently.

Castiel was right that they intended to leave the car behind. Each of them piled into the other cars and drove away. Benny didn’t sound happy to hear this reported to him and Castiel wondered if anyone was going to dare seeing why they had left the car there.

As it turned out they didn’t need to. The car began to move slowly toward the town, picking up speed as it traveled. Castiel reported this to Benny, who cursed back into the radio. Everyone was quickly cleared from the the city perimeter where Castiel knew explosives had been placed. Just as the car was about to roll into Sanctus, either Cordelia or Jessica set a pair of these off.

The responding explosion was much larger than it should have been. The car must have contained its own set of explosives. He sent this information down to Benny and tried to ignore the acrid smell of smoke that now lingered over the town.

Benny didn’t answer him. Castiel repeated his observations and assumed that perhaps Benny was busy dealing with other complications. That being the case, Castiel turned his binoculars to the street and was shocked to see everyone who had been alert only moments ago collapsed on the ground. They weren’t unconscious, because he could still see them moving, but it was more than evident that something was wrong.

Castiel started when he heard gunshots directly behind him. He spun slowly to see Anna staring at him, her uniform darkening slowly with her blood. She was staring at him.

“You’re not real,” he realized as he watched her fall to the ground. She smiled up at him in a way that the real Anna never would have. Like she wanted him to hurt.

She stood up. She walked toward him and turned him around, pointing toward the people on the ground. Castiel stiffened as she stood on her toes to whisper in his ear.

“Would you like to watch?” she said, turning the question over in her mouth in a manner that was almost gratingly unpleasant. Her fingers pressed into his side. “You know what’s going to happen. They’ll wait until the gas takes completely and then come back and pick your new friends off one by one.”

It was brilliant, actually. Faced with your worst nightmare, how could you be expected to function? It was lucky, Castiel supposed that he never had much of an imagination.

“This is my mind,” Castiel said slowly. “Fear is not something I shy from.”

“Maybe that’s why I’m so friendly,” Anna said, arm now wrapped tight around Castiel’s waist. He did his best not to flinch.

“If you must stay,” Castiel said, clearing his throat. “At least be useful. Or convincing. The real Anna would never behave like this.”

“Are you going to help them?” Anna asked. She didn’t let go of him but her voice had returned to the firm cadence of his commander. He breathed slightly easier.

“Yes,” he said. The moment he had decided he was running to the edge of the roof and quickly scaling the building. He stopped at each person he saw, most of whom were sobbing over illusions. It was a process to convince them of reality, and one woman had reacted so violently to Castiel trying to convince her that her child hadn’t died before her eyes that he was forced to restrain her. To anyone he could cajole into a lucid state he gave a set of instructions: Convince everyone about the hallucinations. Restrain outliers and move them to a safe location. A man and a woman Castiel had never met had already helped to do so with the woman who had reacted violently to him.

It was about ten minutes before he reached Benny. His eyes were glazed over as he stared straight ahead of him. His hat was removed from his head and although his eyes were dry, Castiel was certain he saw sheer grief on Benny’s face.

“I’m sorry, brother,” he said quietly to no one. “You were the best of men, Dean.”

If nothing else, this crisis was certainly going to reveal where people’s priorities lay.

“Benny,” Castiel said, standing in front of him. He had to resort to shaking the captain to get his attention. Benny’s eyes finally focused on him, though the grief didn’t fade. Castiel knew the hallucinations didn’t go away once you realized they were hallucinations, but they certainly lost their power. If you could convince someone that their eyes were lying to them. “It’s not real. Whatever you think happened, it isn’t real.”

Benny seemed to focus more and more as he said that. A familiar expression of distrust was beginning to develop on his face, and Castiel decided for once to take that as a good sign.

“What do ya mean?” he growled. Castiel tensed slightly, in case he reacted violently, but for now he seemed to be willing to be convinced.

“The explosion was used to disperse a chemical agent that causes hallucinations,” Castiel said. “It’s a method of incapacitating the town so Zachariah can eliminate resistance forces without risking casualties. People are so consumed with fear or despair that they won’t be able to fight back Dean briefed everyone about this possibility.”

“What about you?” Benny asked, and Castiel didn’t even know why he was surprised that Benny would challenge him on this. Of course he wasn’t taking it at face value, not when Castiel was the one delivering the news. “Shouldn’t you be ‘consumed with despair’ too?”

“I’m used to it,” said Castiel. “I promise you Dean is alive.”

Benny seemed to want to believe this, though he still wasn’t convinced.

“How do I know you’re not a hallucination to trick me because Dean actually is dead,” he asked, pointing an accusing finger at Castiel, who could do nothing but stare at him in steadily increasing levels of annoyance.

“Hallucinations are waking dreams. In what world would I ever be involved in your dreams, good or bad?” he asked. Benny considered that and at last he seemed to catch on to exactly what was happening.

“Fair,” he said. His hallucination must be upsetting, because even though he was no longer grieving, he flinched at the sight of whatever horrific way Dean had died. “Does it go away any time soon?”

“No,” said Castiel, just as Anna’s fingertips started to trail down his neck. He ignored her. “Unfortunately.”

“Are you going to tell him how scary I am?” Anna asked, suddenly in front of him and demanding his attention again.

“You need to help others who are still completely under the influence of the chemical agent,” Castiel said to Benny. “Anyone who responds violently needs to be restrained and taken to safety. The effects will hopefully wear off eventually.”

“And if they don’t?” Benny asked. Castiel shook his head. Benny muttered grimly to himself before he saw more people in need of help, and knelt beside Carl, one of the men that was under his command. Castiel was satisfied that Benny would take care of everyone in the immediate vicinity and went off to continue helping everyone he could.

It wasn’t long until he ran into Sam, who was also helping people. He looked less affected than even Castiel did, and even in the middle of the urgency Castiel now felt he took note of it. Hallucinations didn’t much slow down Sam Winchester.

“Sam,” he said quickly after Sam had helped someone who had been cowering in fear in the corner. Sam looked up at him, eyes flashing in recognition that Castiel had likely been aware for a while now. Castiel wasn’t sure what he made of it. “Dean, Ellen, and Bobby, are they-“

“Good,” Sam said with a quick nod. “Charlie not so much. I’ve been hearing people are sending everyone who reacts badly to the school. I also heard that was your idea?”

“I said safety,” Castiel corrected. “The school works fine. Charlie is-“

“She’ll be fine,” said Sam firmly. “Dean is consolidating everyone and we’re strategizing for a counter attack. Right now the focus is getting as many people functional as quickly as possible.”

That made sense. Sam left before Castiel could think of any other questions, so he continued on his way, assisting people as he went and relaying the same instructions time and time again. It was forty minutes since the car had exploded when he reached the edge of town and saw a rocking Jo who had Selma and Jessica gently trying to reach her. She didn’t appear to be listening. Castiel ran to her without a thought.

“Jo,” he said softly, grateful that Selma and Jessica were moving aside to let him speak to her. Jo looked at him, but her eyes remained unfocused and her expression closed off.

“I killed you,” she said to him seriously. “Figures you’d haunt me.”

“You didn’t-“

“And Charlie died because of it. Because I thought you were up to no good,” Jo cut over him. Her fingernails dug into her jeans. “Sorry about that.”

She started laughing almost hysterically and curled herself tighter against her legs.

“That’s not how it happened,” Castiel said. Jo shuddered at the sound of his voice, paling as she saw him reach for her to act as some sort of comfort. Anna appeared in Cas’ peripheral vision, and he did his best to push her from his mind. “You didn’t shoot to kill. I would know. I was very angry about that.”

Castiel was sure Selma wasn’t going to be very happy with him when this was over. As long as Jo was alright, Castiel supposed he didn’t mind. And he seemed to have captured her attention with this confession, because Jo was now looking directly at him. She still looked horrified, but for a different reason.

“Not at you, just at bullets in general,” Castiel continued. “A bullet hits Anna and she gets to wash her hands of the complications of her actions. When it’s my turn, I have to go on. It seems incredibly unfair at times.”

Jo had now grabbed Castiel’s sleeve in an angry fist. Encouraging.

“But you shot me in the leg,” Castiel went on. “I think you did that because you didn’t really have the stomach to kill me. Because we’re friends, and even if I had betrayed you, that meant something.”

Jo’s eyes started to clear.

“So I got to Charlie in time,” Castiel said firmly. He pushed down the guilt at knowing that Charlie might be in grave danger, because Jo didn’t need to know that at the moment. “And everything was fine.”

Jo’s eyes focused completely. She uncurled herself slowly, glancing at the likely anxious Jessica and Selma who were standing behind him. She cleared her throat and then looked at Castiel.

“You’re a miserable son of a bitch,” she said, letting go of his sleeve as she grew more and more lucid.

“I missed you, too,” Castiel said, glad to see the smile that brought to Jo’s face. She grimaced when she looked away from him at where he suspected her hallucinations were manifesting. “They don’t go away. It’s best to ignore them.”

“Or try at least,” said Anna. “He’s not very good at it.”

Castiel resisted the urge to tell his hallucination to shut up. No one else seemed to be having this problem. Perhaps their fears were more… static than his.

“So what do we do now?” Jo asked, oblivious of Anna and already preparing to act. She was on her feet and noticeably not looking at something off to her right. “I’m guessing the lovely people of Invidia are behind this shit.”

“It’s likely,” said Selma, relief evident in her voice despite her attempt to maintain a professional demeanor. “Jess, have you heard from Cordy since-“

“Everyone is making their way to the main square,” Jessica confirmed. “Jo are you alright?”

“Fine,” she said, over exaggerating her swagger slightly as she started walking. Castiel could take the hint that she’d rather not discuss it and was happy to comply. “Let’s go.”

Castiel didn’t acknowledge how Selma’s worried eyes were boring holes into his and Jo’s heads. He was also quickly distracted by Anna dragging his chin slightly to the side so he was looking at her. She wasn’t real, but his mind didn’t seem to want to accept that completely. So when she aimed a kiss for the side of his mouth, he reacted by violently trying to push her away, falling to the ground as he did so. He stood up, brushed off his friends’ concerns and kept walking to the town square.

JANUARY 13, 111 A.L. - SANCTUS

Castiel had somehow drawn guard duty. Or to be more accurate he had been assigned along with those deemed to be “weaker fighters” to watch over the school while the remainder of the people of Sanctus and those under Dean’s command were staging an ambush for the encroaching state force.

It especially rankled because Castiel had provided the information that inspired this particular idea. When they had gathered in the main square of Sanctus, it had been only by sheer will that Dean had kept the growing crowd from panicking again after having recovered from being exposed to Sweet Dreams. He had a talent for managing people and a solid plan in place, which had eventually seemed to lower the level of terror Sanctus was currently experiencing.

Dean’s plan had been unexpectedly good. He’d assumed the reason they had yet to be attacked was that forces from Invidia were waiting for the chemical agent to be diffuse enough so as not to effect them. That being the case, they all had to assume these hallucinations weren’t going anywhere within the next twenty four hours even after the gas was diffuse enough to no longer affect them. This meant there was a serious risk carrying firearms when one couldn’t always trust one’s eyes. On the other hand, if they engaged in outright combat, they were going to need effective weapons. Dean had suggested a strategy of capture and hold hostage, which would limit the amount of friendly fire hopefully play to their strengths of knowing Sanctus much better than the opposition. Soldiers tended not to be involved in rural matters as long as a steady supply of food was being traded to the cities, so it was unlikely any of the garrisons coming in had more than a cursory knowledge of Sanctus. Castiel remembered it had taken him three or four days before he had even begun to memorize the strange interweaving of the roads within the town. Having the advantages of familiarity with area of combat and the element of surprise were going to be crucial to expelling Zachariah’s forces.

Castiel had only added to this that garrisons acted as units, and would care more about each other than about other garrisons. If they wanted to hinder every garrison, they needed at least one hostage from every garrison. The state organized itself by having supervising commanders in times of conflict that required multiple garrisons to work together on a single assignment, but this was more for coordination than an actual attempt to work in harmony with each other. If the garrisons were attacked uniformly, there would be more success.

He likely would not have shared this if Dean’s plan had been meant to kill these soldiers, but that he had shared it at all he thought should have gone to his credit. But instead of being allowed to join in with one of the offensive teams, he had been forcibly placed where he was least likely to be useful.

Since he still had yet to see or hear any confrontations, Castiel decided to walk into the school to ask the progress of those who had reacted most adversely to Sweet Dreams. His own hallucination was still annoyingly present, though he had managed to successfully ignore her for a while now. The door made a rather loud screeching sound as he opened it, which drew annoyed glances from his fellow guards. Castiel shut it behind him quickly and looked around the room at the hundred or so people sitting on the floor or available chairs. Across the room, Dr. Newman looked up and acknowledged Cas with a tired nod.

“Any improvements?” Castiel asked.

“I think so,” said Newman. “But nothing major. They have to be timing this pretty closely. Long enough that the gas can’t affect them but not too long or we won’t be feeling the effects. And we are still feeling the effects.”

“I know,” Castiel said.

“Hi there,” Anna said, standing right next to Dr. Newman and waving. “You know I’ve been thinking.”

“What are you seeing?” Dr. Newman asked curiously. He’d likely observed the way Castiel’s eyes had flicked to the side of him. “Most everyone I’ve gotten it out of say people they love dead.”

“That makes sense,” Castiel said to Dr. Newman, ignoring his other question. Anna stepped toward him, unwittingly causing him to look at her again. She smiled.

“I’ve been thinking about why this is your worst nightmare,” she said. “And I figured it out.”

“I hear you broke out of your hallucination almost instantly,” Dr. Newman said. “I’m just wondering… how? Sam I understand, I know what he’s been through. But everyone else needed help reaching reality again.”

Anna advanced on him as he tried to think of a way to answer Dr. Newman’s curiosity.

“I don’t think you were scared of me wanting you,” Anna said, touching a hand to one of his cheeks. “You were scared because you wanted me. I think you still want me, in the biblical sense.”

Castiel breathed a sigh of relief when her hand fell from his face.

“Do I mean salvation or sex?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “Take your pick. But you can’t have both. And if I ever showed interest, you would have had to make a choice.”

“I’m not accusing you of anything here,” said Dr. Newman. “I’m just trying to understand.”

Anna stared Castiel down.

“Most people see their living loved ones dead,” Castiel said at last. “I have the opposite problem, and I’ve had it for some time now. She’s nothing but a dream, and she isn’t hard to recognize as such.”

“You’re afraid of someone you loved… being alive again?” Dr. Newman asked, sounding confused.

“He’s afraid of me,” Anna corrected. “He always was.”

“No,” Castiel said to them both. “Don’t you have patients to attend to?”

Dr. Newman nodded and went back to checking in with each person.

“You can’t lie to me, Castiel,” said Anna. “And it gets worse. Because every bad thought I put in your head, every little doubt, that’s yours now Castiel. And it’ll only grow.”

“Cas!”

Castiel spun around from staring at Anna to see Dean standing at the door to the barn gesturing him over.

“We’ve got our hostages,” said Dean. “I want you to be there for the negotiation.”

“I thought you said I would only get in the way,” said Castiel. He didn’t mean it, though. He was happy to have distraction from Anna at this point.

“Yeah, well now I need you there. So jump to,” said Dean. Castiel swallowed down his instinct to refuse on principle and instead waved a goodbye to Dr. Newman so he could follow Dean. As they walked Castiel noticed there was very little damage everywhere.

“It doesn’t seem like there was much of a fight,” Castiel observed. Dean nodded thoughtfully looking around, but not clarifying anything. “Where are we going?”

“We’re meeting at the edge of town. So Cas, there are some things you should know before this goes down. First of all, Bobby, Ellen, and Jody had nothing to do with this. The official story is that we came in on our own and stirred up trouble.”

“You think that will work?” Castiel asked, furrowing his brows. “But Zachariah knows that the people here have been actively resisting the state.”

“True. But I’m betting he’ll be willing to ignore that if he can wring a political victory out of this. Say that the people living in this area helped to drive a rebel militia force out of Invidia. So we tell them that we imposed ourselves on the people here and threatened them. Sure, Zach will look like even more of a dick for attacking his own people, but I think he’ll be willing to buy into the story I’m selling because-“

Dean cut himself off, and looked at Cas.

“You’ll see.”

That sounded rather ominous.

It was a twenty minute walk to the edge of town. On either side of the border that was lined with bombs were soldiers under Zachariah’s command and the men and women whose loyalty lay with Dean. Castiel spotted many familiar faces, including Sam, Jo, and Selma. Not one of the people present was in any way related to Sanctus, and Castiel supposed that helped sell the story that Sanctus was an unwilling host to their presence.

It was quiet as they arrived, and all eyes centered on Dean. No one was paying much attention to Castiel for once, which was a relief. He didn’t know any of the soldiers that they were opposing and none recognized him. He suspected that a great deal of the older and more experienced soldiers would still be reinforcing Superbia at the moment. He tried to scan and pick out which people were likely in charge and would have a say in the negotiations.

He didn’t expect to see Zachariah himself step forward when he saw Dean.

“If it isn’t Mary Winchester Jr.,” said Zachariah. “You really are an incessant thorn in my side, are you aware of that?”

“C’mon Zach,” said Dean. How he managed to sound so casually menacing was a mystery to Castiel. “We have a barn full of your people ready to blow at my say so. If I were you, I’d keep the insulting to a minimum.”

Zachariah didn’t look all that concerned about the possible casualties. Castiel decided he hated him.

“Well, I’m here for a reason,” Zachariah said at last. “You want something, or you wouldn’t be trying to keep them alive for leverage. Let me guess, you want me to spare Sanctus from the punishment that is due to those who commit treason?”

“They didn’t commit treason,” Dean lied easily. “We invaded, and the plan was to attack the city. That’s why we have you surrounded. I mean, you had to know that right?”

Castiel started at Dean’s blatant lie, and one he’d stolen from Castiel’s conjecture on how Dean’s attempt to keep the people surrounding Invidia safe would appear to the city itself.

“I had my suspicions,” Zachariah confirmed, eyes locked on Dean.

“Yeah, well, something didn’t smell quite right about that plan,” said Dean, confusing Castiel even more. “You see…”

Dean hooked a hand behind Castiel’s neck and pushed him forward, causing all eyes to shift to him.

“We happen to have a… diplomat of sorts. Cas, say hi.”

“Dean, what are you doing?”

“That’s Cas. He used to be one of you guys but now he works directly for Naomi.”

Castiel gaped at Dean in disbelief. This was the exact opposite of how Dean should be going about this. He might take the heat off of the people in Sanctus by telling Zachariah that he was working for Naomi, but he would also cause Zachariah to suspect that Naomi was plotting his downfall, and that could lead to possible warfare between the two cities-

Oh. Castiel knew exactly what Dean was doing now.

“You expect me to just believe you?” Zachariah said warily. Castiel could already see something in his expression though, something that was willing to believe. Zachariah was going to fall for it. Worse than that, Castiel suspected Zachariah wanted to fall for it. “Naomi is a member of the state. She would never work with you scum.”

“How did we know what to do after you guys had us all gassed?” Dean pointed out. “Cas here was a big help with that one. He told us all about Sweet Dreams.”

Zachariah raised an eyebrow at that, the conclusion falling perfectly into his head. He now thought, without a doubt that Naomi was planning his downfall. Certainly, she didn’t want him to succeed in his venture to kill citizens in a political ploy for power, but she didn’t want to see Invidia fall either.

“That’s not true,” Castiel said out loud at last, but he had only to look at Zachariah to know that his attempt had backfired. Dean looked a mix of pleased and disappointed at Castiel’s outburst. “Dean, you’re going to start a war if you’re not careful.”

“I think it might be Naomi who wants to start a war,” Zachariah said, his eyes narrowed on Castiel.

“That’s what I thought too,” said Dean. “And truth is I don’t want to die for some dick who’s using me to take a swipe at you. So yeah I want to deal. You leave us alone and we leave. The people here aren’t exactly friendly to us anyway.”

“All you want is to be left alone?”

“We also want a million in state currency,” said Dean casually. “For safe return of our hostages.”

“That’s a fair deal,” Zachariah admitted suspiciously. “You really don’t want anything else?”

“I wouldn’t say no to more,” said Dean. He flashed Zachariah a cocky grin. “We could use weapons.”

“I’m not an idiot, Winchester,” Zachariah huffed. He glanced at Castiel again. “What about Naomi’s puppet?”

“We’ll deal with him ourselves,” Dean said instantly. “I’m offering you a deal here Zach. Naomi paid us some pretty serious money to sic us on you, and we only got half up front. I’m offering you a nice way to make us go away without burning Invidia to the ground.”

“You couldn’t hope to be successful in invading our city.”

“Do you really want to test that knowing what happened in Libidine?” Dean asked. “Because the way I see it, we don’t have much to lose if you’re not going to work with us. Having Naomi as an ally is a powerful thing, considering she’s the one who controls a pretty large part of your military force right now.”

Zachariah considered this for a moment. Finally he walked forward despite warnings from the people guarding him up to Dean.

“We’ve got a deal,” he said at last. “You leave, we pretend you were never here. One million in return for the hostages.”

“Great,” said Dean, smiling grimly while they shook hands. Castiel noticed Dean subtly wipe his hand against his pants after the handshake was over. Zachariah retreated back to his side and the tense smile dropped. Dean looked exhausted after the soldiers had gotten far away enough that they could no longer see his face.

His own men were still watching him. And Castiel too of course.

“You used me,” Castiel said at last.

Dean didn’t say anything to that. Perhaps there was a hint of guilt on his features, but not much. That being said, he didn’t much look like he was willing to go a few verbal rounds about how it was the right thing to do either.

“Cas,” said Selma after the silence had stretched on a little long. “It’s been a long night. Maybe you should go find some place to sleep-“

“No,” Castiel said to her before she could finish. Anger was slowly but surely clawing its way out of him. “I don’t want anything to do with any of you.”

Dean’s face hardened, but he nodded at that. Like it was what he expected to hear. It just made Castiel more angry.

“Isn’t taking a little vengeance on Naomi why you’re here, Cas?” Dean asked. His tone was flat, which by itself let Castiel know he was in dangerous territory.

“You aren’t going to hurt Naomi with this ploy. And even if you were, that’s not what matters,” Castiel said. “You tell me day in and day out that the state is manipulative and lies to its citizens. What right do you have to malign them? You used me, you self righteous, hypocritical fucking prick.”

Well, apparently Dean wasn’t expecting that line of reasoning. The shades of guilt that had been there before deepened. Castiel wasn’t satisfied.

“I’m leaving,” he said, backing away when Jo tried to take a few steps towards him. He shook his head at her and fixed his eyes back on Dean. “But don’t worry. I’m sure the target you’ve just made me will ensure I don’t make it very far.”

Nobody stopped Castiel as he walked away. Not that he expected them to. He had pretty soundly rejected any sort of understanding from his few real friends here. Then again, expectations and logic didn't seem to be playing into his frame of mind much lately. He knew he was just here as a means to crumble the resistance from the inside. It wasn’t personal, Dean’s deep distrust of him, and yet it somehow still managed to make him angry enough to return to Superbia and Naomi having failed in his mission spectacularly, if only so he didn’t have to deal with the Winchester’s fearless leader persona or smug certainty in his own rightness.

That being said, Castiel didn’t steal a car and leave town yet. Instead he walked back to the barn where everyone who was adversely affected by Sweet Dreams was and sat back down next to Charlie and very thoroughly ignored all of Dr. Newman’s attempts to talk to him.

At least Anna was finally gone. Not that that was much of a consolation when he knew he’d be seeing her face again in his dreams the next time he went to sleep.

Dr. Newman’s patients were slowly getting better too, as the night wore on. More and more people were emerging from their catatonic states, and although they didn’t seem entirely recovered, they were mobile enough that Dr. Newman asked over radio for relatives and friends to collect those who had recovered.

Charlie was still silent and horrified. Castiel didn’t like to look at her too long, it was so disturbing the despondent look she had taken on. He was careful not to touch her, in case it would set her off screaming again, which Dr. Newman said she had been one of the worst cases of during the initial violent reactions. Instead he sat quietly next to her and watched as the place slowly emptied.

It was near morning when Castiel noticed Charlie was no longer staring hollow eyed into nothing and had instead fallen asleep, slumping to the floor awkwardly within her restraints. Cas hurried to untie her and took off his jacket so he could bunch it up as a pillow for her head. Charlie started to snore and Cas took a deep breath and stood up, deciding that now was as good a time to leave as ever.

“She’ll be pissed if you don’t say goodbye.”

Or perhaps five minutes ago would have been better.

“What are you doing here?” Castiel muttered, not bothering to turn around and look at Dean. It should concern him that Dean managed to come in without him noticing, but at the moment it hardly seemed to matter. Sheer anger had returned with a vengeance.

“I wanted to make sure Charlie was alright,” said Dean. “I heard people were getting better and thought I’d check in on her. Besides, I kind of figured you’d be here.”

“She fell asleep. I think that’s a good sign,” Castiel said slowly, doing his best to keep the anger out of his voice. “I’m going now.”

“Don’t.”

Now that made Castiel turn around. The nerve of him, to order Castiel to do anything after-

The second Castiel saw Dean, the anger started fading. The man was wrecked in a way his carefree tone would never have suggested. He was twitchy and their was something about the way he kept looking out of the corner of his eyes that made him look a little past sane.

“Are you okay?” Castiel found himself asking, before he could stop himself. The moment the words left his lips, Dean’s expression rearranged itself back into the competent arrogance it preferred. If Cas had blinked, he might have missed it.

“I’ve been better,” Dean said with a shrug. “Listen, I’m serious about you not leaving. And not just because we need someone with access to Naomi right now. You’re one of us, now, and we look out for our guys.”

“You’re certain about that?” Cas asked, tone dark. It felt like walking halfway to the line of an outright confession. But it didn’t stop Dean short like it usually did. Instead, Dean’s eyes traveled down to Charlie, and Castiel’s jacket bunched up beneath her head.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Dean said, as though it were as easy as that. “If it helps, though, I am sorry. Not about what I did, but that I didn’t tell you first. I should have let you in on the plan. I… I was in a fucked up frame of mind, okay? I’m not making excuses, I’m just making sure you understand. Because you’re right. We are supposed to be better than them, otherwise what’s the point?”

Castiel hadn’t been expecting that level of sincerity.

“So,” Dean said, after the silence had stretched a little long. “Are we good?”

“I don’t know.”

“That’s fair,” Dean admitted, looking a bit put off about it, but understanding. “Believe it or not, I do know how shitty it is to be thrown into situations you know nothing about and be expected to blindly follow orders, so… Yeah. That’s fair.”

Interesting.

“Your mother?” Castiel asked without thinking. Dean’s eyes widened in slight confusion before he realized what Cas was asking, and the beginnings of denial started to creep up. Not the correct reaction. Castiel tried again. “Your father?”

And he flinched. Castiel caught another glimpse of that haunted look in Dean’s eyes. But a second later it was gone, efficiently pushed down just like the first time.

“I know I did something shitty, but don’t push your luck,” said Dean. He looked back down at the ground and saw Charlie. “She should probably get to sleep in a real bed.”

That was one of the fastest changes of subjects Castiel had ever seen.

“I’ll take her,” Castiel offered. He carefully picked up his friend, making sure Charlie was in danger of falling after he’d lifted her. Then he realized his coat was still on the ground.

“I’ve got it,” Dean said, rolling his eyes at the annoyed glare Castiel was aiming at the coat. He picked it up, and they both said goodbye to Dr. Newman as they walked out of the barn, which was now almost entirely empty. The walk to Harvelle’s revealed the citizens of Sanctus determinedly going about their days as though nothing had happened. Castiel wasn’t sure where they got the energy.

“You wondering how we managed to keep the damage so minimal?” Dean asked, noticing Castiel looking around. He had asked that question earlier and Dean had ignored him. Castiel guessed that this was another olive branch.

“Yes,” Castiel said, because he was curious about that as well as the seemingly miraculous recovery of the town from the day before.

“I was thinking about some things you’ve said,” said Dean. “Your guys are trained not to kill unless it’s a last resort most of the time. Not that the prison system is that much better than death, but-“

“You’ve been to a state prison?”

“Not the point,” Dean said, smoothly avoiding the topic. “The point is, I figured it would make them very uncomfortable to shoot supposedly unarmed and incapacitated people. They would if ordered, but they would hesitate. From there, all I had to do was plant the idea in their head that we were an invading force and the people who lived here were innocent. People weren’t so keen to do anything that would damage civilian property after that, and they instead tried to chase our people down, because we were up and moving and seemingly unaffected by Sweet Dreams. We kidnapped ten of them from different garrisons, and, well, you know the rest.”

“You used their better nature against them.”

“Yeah I did. And everyone got out alive,” Dean said, which was a good point. “And Zachariah has an enemy his own size to keep his eyes on.”

“How am I supposed to explain this to Naomi?” Castiel asked, because she was not going to be happy when she found out what happened.

“Lie,” Dean said, as though it were that easy. “Zachariah could easily be using this as an excuse to justify attacking Naomi. Say he’s making everything up.”

“But how would he know about me being here if that information wasn’t revealed to him?”

“Spies inside Sanctus,” Dean said. “Just tell her Zachariah decided to cut a deal with us instead of attack. You didn’t have any say in it.”

That… just might work. But it was also a lie, and Dean wasn’t the one Castiel was actually working for. Still, after what had happened, Castiel wasn’t sure the truth was something that would help him ever get back to his garrison.

They reached Harvelle’s as Castiel thought about this, and as soon as they got in, Crookshanks started yowling at all of them. She tried to use her claws to climb up Castiel’s pants, which was a mite painful.

“And this is where I leave you,” Dean said, edging away from the cat like it might explode if he wasn’t careful. “Get some sleep, okay?”

And then he was gone again, likely off to make sure that everyone he was responsible for was operating smoothly. Castiel stopped watching him leave when Crookshanks pawed at his pants again.

“She’s fine,” he assured the cat, who hissed at him in response. He sighed and walked up the stairs to Charlie’s room where he set her down on her bed and pulled a blanket over her. Within seconds Crookshanks was curled up next to her and meowing plaintively. The cat took a break from this attempt to comfort her owner to glare at Castiel.

“What did I do?” Castiel muttered. The cat meowed loudly. “That clears it up, thank you”

The cat meowed again. Could cats be passive aggressive?

“Okay, well I’m leaving now, anyway.”

The next meow was less grumpy and more shrill.

“I don’t know what you want from me.”

“Are you arguing with the cat?” Charlie muttered into her pillow.

“She started it,” Castiel said without thinking. Then he realized Charlie was awake. “Charlie, you’re awake.”

“Trying not to be,” Charlie said tiredly. She shuddered and kept her eyes closed. “How long did it last?”

“It’s been around sixteen hours since you were exposed to the gas,” Castiel said, checking his watch before looking back at Charlie.

“Is everyone okay?”

“Everyone is fine. No deaths on either side.”

“It’s a Christmas miracle.”

“Christmas was several weeks ago, do you know when it is- You were being sarcastic,” Castiel corrected himself at Charlie finally raising her head to give him an incredulous look. “In my defense, I was very worried about you.”

Charlie smiled at that, and then sat up. She looked like she wanted to ask more questions, but she didn’t know how to at the moment. Cas decided to fill in anything else she might need to know.

“Sanctus is safe for now, and we don’t think Zachariah has future plans to attack it. However, we are going to have to leave to keep the image of their innocence in tact, which Dean has worked very hard to create. The effects of the gas are wearing off on everyone as we speak, and you are far from the only person who was affected.”

Charlie took a few seconds to process all of this, before using a hand to rub her forehead distractedly.

“Yeah, okay. That all sounds good,” she said. “Alright.”

She didn’t look alright.

“Do you need-?”

“Can you get Dean?” she said. Castiel nodded, and watched as Charlie curled back onto her bed with Crookshanks immediately reaching out to tap her face gently with a paw. Charlie snort giggled, before letting out something sounded a little like a sob.

“Charlie-“

“Please, just leave.”

Dean didn’t seem to be surprised that Charlie wanted him there. He seemed a little frustrated Charlie had woken up so soon, but the moment he was at Charlie’s side he pulled her to his chest and hugged her, patting the back of her head while keeping a rather stoic expression himself.

“You’re alright,” he assured her. He followed that up by sneezing violently which caused Charlie to laugh, a little too high pitched to be entirely okay, but better. “Why did I let you get a cat again?”

“I put in a good word about you with Risa.”

“Oh god, I got the short end of that deal. Risa can be rough. And not in the fun way.”

“You deserved it.”

“That’s… half true,” Dean admitted, sounding good natured about whatever past event they were talking about, despite it apparently ending rather badly. “How are you feeling, kiddo?”

“I’m okay,” Charlie said. She looked over Dean’s shoulder at Cas, while keeping silent for the next few seconds. Castiel took the hint.

“I’m going to… go,” he settled on, letting Charlie have her secrets. He did know that despite appearances to having a great deal of friends, Charlie considered Dean first among them. And Dean treated her very similarly to Sam with regards to how much say she had with him. It made sense that at her most vulnerable she would want Dean and only Dean around to help her pick up the pieces of a likely somewhat damaged psyche.

Castiel very much wishes he had someone he could do the same with. He’d always confided in Balthazar most in the years before Anna was killed. Not about everything, but almost. Anna may have known the deepest of his doubts, but Balthazar was the one who spoke to when he needed comfort. It wasn’t often, but it was enough that Castiel had always known he placed a certain value on that friendship that no one else filled.

Despite his exhaustion, Cas didn’t go to sleep. Instead he took to wandering the streets of Sanctus and generally keeping out of people’s way and avoiding any kind of critical thought. It was soothing, even if below the surface Castiel had the stretched too thin feeling of someone seconds from snapping. He might have done this for who knows how long if someone didn’t finally stop him.

“Hey,” said Benny, frowning up at Cas from where he’d been helping repair the minor amount of damage that had occurred the night before. “I thought you were going away forever. You stomped off like a toddler throwing a tantrum and everything.”

“Sorry to disappoint you,” Castiel said. Benny smiled smugly at the fact he’d managed to irritate Castiel so easily. “Dean asked me to stay.”

“Oh. Gotcha,” Benny said. “He is a hard man to say no to.”

“Apparently.”

“Has anyone told you today, you look like shit?” Benny asked next. Cas glowered at him. “Just saying.”

“You have the pleasure of being the first.”

“Right. Hey, Jo!” Benny yelled to across the street. From out of the office Dr. Newman usually worked out of ran Jo, who looked like she was expecting an emergency. “I’ve got a patient for you. I think he needs medical attention.”

“I don’t need-“

“Dean told me you were supposed to be sleeping,” Jo said, disapproval evident from the second she got close.

“Nobody else is.”

“Nobody else has a target on their back,” Jo pointed out, calmly. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m worried about your health, but when Dean is trying to keep you out of sight without telling you to hide. Some people just have too much pride.”

“I assume you’re talking about me.”

“Uh huh,” Jo confirmed. “Compromise: help me and Dr. Newman. He’s trying to do some evaluations on people who are still experiencing symptoms from the gas.”

Castiel agreed with this and ended up spending the afternoon helping Jo take notes on the side effects people were experiencing. He dozed off about halfway through the afternoon, which upon waking felt unfortunately like admitting defeat. Jo seemed happier with him though.

“So,” Jo said as they walked back to Harvelle’s. “What’d you see? Y’know, last night?”

“I’d rather not talk about it,” Castiel said. That lasted about two seconds. “Anna, if you must know.”

“Okay, no that makes sense,” Jo said, which let Cas off the hook for having to explain why. “Well, what do you say we drink a lot and pretend the last twenty four hours never happened?”

“I very much like your ideas, Jo Harvelle,” Castiel said, feeling himself start to relax at the mindlessness that kind of activity would let him engage in.

So they drank by themselves, and laughed a lot about nothing. It didn’t get rid of the the tension inside Castiel, but he no longer felt stretched so thin. He no longer felt like he was going to snap.

JANUARY 17 111 A.L. - SANCTUS

It was the last day that they would be staying in Sanctus. Over the past few days, it had been revealed that they were going to be heading to Ira next in order to meet up with the head of the majority of the resistance movement herself, Mary Winchester. Castiel got the sense perhaps this was less by choice and more by request, though he wasn’t sure what exactly it was that led him to this impression.

Then again, he’d been paying less attention to where they were going next than he had to convincing Naomi of the lie Dean had come up with. He had sent quite a few messages back to an increasingly frustrated Naomi who eventually had conceded that Castiel likely couldn’t have done anything differently, and that Zachariah’s attempt to start conflict would have happened whether Castiel was there or not. While this wasn’t strictly true, Castiel did think that Zachariah had jumped to quickly at the opportunity to take on Naomi for that to not have previously been on his mind.

As that was sorted, Castiel could finally stop constantly checking the device Naomi had given him for more messages, knowing that any lack of promptness in answering on his part could lead to disaster. As that was the case, Jo was now insisting that Castiel should join her, Charlie, and Dean in celebrating their victory and final night in Sanctus.

“I don’t know why you want me there Jo,” Castiel said for the umpteenth time, Jo had bugged him about it.

“You’re my best friend, and I want you to go,” Jo said. Castiel sighed, but he’d be lying if he said it didn’t light up something inside him to hear that Jo considered him to be such a close friend. “Benny’s on duty, which means Selma’s on duty.”

“Which means you’re supposed to be doing a job as well.”

“Dean gave me the night off for a discount on my mom’s beer,” Jo said. “Besides, I want to see their faces when you show them that thing you can do.”

“No.”

“C’mon,” Jo said. “I want someone to drink Charlie under the table just this once.”

“No,” Castiel repeated, already knowing from the hangover he had two days ago that drinking six shots in a row, while impressive, was not a trick he could do twice in one week.

“Fine, but you should still go,” Jo said. “Betty might stop by, and I need someone to stop me from saying something about it.”

Cas sighed and finally relented. Jo thanked him and then went on to talk about Ira and she was excited to see the city again. It was a rather beautiful one, Castiel remembered. Beautiful, but broken. The resistance had always been very active and hard to identify in Ira. It didn’t help that there were some key political figures who had very publicly declared support for the resistance and abandoned the state. There were many reasons why Ira was not the capitol of the state, but chief among them was the high amount of unrest within the city.

The two of them discussed what they knew about Ira from their experiences until Charlie showed up to interrupt them and announce it was time to drink their worries away. As expected, they did right downstairs in Harvelle’s.

Charlie ended up squeezing in next to Jo before Castiel could sit down, so he took the opposite side to his two friends. This of course meant when Dean arrived he had no choice but sit next to him. Castiel side-eyed Dean for a moment before focusing back in on making sure Jo was comfortable around Charlie and wasn’t going to say anything she would regret.

The two seemed to be getting on fine however, and Castiel found his mind and focus begin to wander as everyone else engaged aimless chatter. That was when he caught sight of someone looking at him. He bowed his head down, trying not to draw attention to himself in case she was of a similar mindset to people like Gordon, and would attempt to start a confrontation.

She was one of the women who worked for Ellen, and she seemed to take an especial interest in Castiel when she asked what they all wanted to drink. He felt himself tensing every time she came by, and at the third time he feared she really was going to begin an altercation. When she finally spoke to him, Castiel prepared himself for the worst.

“Are you busy after this?” she asked, seeming not to notice how the noise level of everyone else sitting at the table died at her question. Castiel realized more quickly this time what a question like this meant.

“No, but I’m uninterested,” he said. She looked taken aback for a moment, but ultimately shrugged with only the barest hint of hostility.

“Your loss,” she said.

“I’m sure it is,” Castiel agreed. “You’re aesthetically pleasing and seem very self-possessed. I have no doubt I’m lucky to have gained your attention, and my lack of interest is in spite of your qualities, not because of them.”

She half smiled at him, judging his earnestness. She must not have found him lacking because she nodded at him.

“It’s Mandy,” she said. “If you change your mind, ask around for me.”

She left with a swing in her step and for a moment Castiel thought about it. Just for a moment. The phantom Anna’s words were ringing in his ears that what he was truly afraid of, more than anything else apparently, was the idea of sex. Then again, that wasn’t quite right. It was specifically sex with Anna, that he apparently feared. It’s not like it mattered either way, in the end. He might entertain the possibility of engaging in the act, but he wouldn’t go through with it.

Still, Mandy seemed like she’d be patient with him, if he asked her to. Like she might be kind about his inexperience. He let the thought go and flutter away from his mind, another small moment of weakness that he had to remember went against the rules of the state, in addition to chipping at a part of him that was deeply uncomfortable with such matters.

Unfortunately for him, he was not eating alone.

“Wait… is Cas hot?” Dean asked, frowning after Mandy. His eyes shifted back to look Castiel up and down as though he would somehow miss being so blatantly objectified. “I mean I guess he’s easy on the eyes, but come on. She didn’t even look at the rest of us.”

“I am literally sitting right next to you.”

“Out of ten? He’s probably like a nine point five,” said Jo simultaneously. Castiel frowned at her in disapproval. “What? You don’t rate your friends on how attractive they are? Like just on reflex?”

“No,” said Cas.

“Wait, what am I?” asked Dean. Jo frowned and considered him.

“A five when you’re being a dick,” said Jo. “Which is… ninety percent of the time.”

“Come on, you think I’m handsome, Jo. Don’t deny it.”

“You wish,” said Jo. “And in case it’s not clear, that statement falls under the dick behavior that’s keeping you at a five.”

“I’m a ten, though right?” asked Charlie. Jo nodded.

“Yeah. You’re a ten. Benny’s a solid, solid eight. Nine if he’s wearing a hat.”

“You’re rating Benny higher than me? Really?” asked Dean, while Jo continued to ignore him.

“Risa, definitely a nine. God, she’s pretty and has those biceps? If she tore me limb from limb I wouldn’t even be sorry. No wonder Selma’s gone on her.”

“Jo,” Cas cautioned with a frown. “Perhaps you shouldn’t-“

“Too bad she’s not into girls,” Charlie said at the same time.

“Plus Ris has that small crush on Corbett,” said Jo.

“Corbett’s gay,” said Dean. His voice got quieter as he went on. “And you know… grieving.”

“Yep. Girl loves straight girl who loves sad gay man. It’s like Twelfth Night,” said Charlie.

“What version of Twelfth Night did you read?” asked Dean.

“The one where Viola totally had a thing for Olivia. And Antonio definitely put the moves on Sebastian. You know, the way Shakespeare intended Twelfth Night to be seen,” said Charlie. Dean snorted and Charlie glared at him. “If you want to argue about this, I can go and get Wendy.”

“Wendy and I have agreed we only speak Vonnegut to each other now,” said Dean. “And I have to pay Rufus out of my stash of decent booze every time I piss her off. I’m running out, so how about we leave Wendy alone. Besides, Antonio had a thing for Sebastian, but he just thought Antonio was a good lay. You don’t marry someone the day you meet her if you’re not trying to tell someone else to back the fuck off. And Viola loved Orsino. She was just, y’know, doing her duty wooing Olivia for him.”

“You’re kidding me right?” said Charlie. “Have you even read the play, or did you just get Sam to summarize it for you?”

“Fuck you, Bradbury,” said Dean. Charlie continued steamroll right over him.

“The play ends with Orsino inviting himself to live with Olivia. He totally knew his fiancee still had the hots for her, and he’d been in love with Olivia for ages. Those two were definitely hoping for some extramarital stuff with Olivia while Sebastian groveled to get Antonio back.”

“That didn’t happen.”

“Yeah, because the play ended before it could,” insisted Charlie.

“Not to rain on your parade, guys,” Jo said, after finishing her glass of beer. “But I think you’re ignoring Olivia here, who we actually know was in love with Cesario. It’s not like she married Sebastian on purpose. So your little Selma, Risa, Corbett analogy breaks down pretty badly. Cesario is also Viola, Cas,” Jo added at the last second. The clarification didn’t help.

“You all are very passionate about people who don’t exist,” Castiel muttered, looking down at his drink and feeling awkwardly left out. Three sets of eyes were on him instantly and he wished he’d kept his mouth shut.

“It’s something to do,” Dean said casually. “If you wanna understand the appeal, one of us could lend you something. Something good, none of this Harry Potter shit Sam and Charlie like.”

“Hey!” said Charlie, attempting to kick Dean under the table and missing and kicking Cas instead. She looked up at him with a sheepish shrug. “Sorry.”

“I’m fine,” Castiel assured her. “And I’d prefer not to, uh-“

“Be too much of a rebel?” Dean asked. “You know, reading isn’t going to kill you.”

“If I accidentally reveal that I have been reading illegal books, it certainly could,” Castiel said back sternly. “Besides, there’s no tactical advantage to doing so. It would be a waste of my time.”

“But all the cool kids are doing it,” Dean said. It took Castiel a second to realize he was being teased but once he did, he mustered up a decent look of disdain for Dean. “Whatever. We’ll break you one day.”

The next round of drinks arrived, which spared Castiel from having to respond to that. Instead he could focus on not being sober, which was infinitely more appealing.

Betty did end up stopping by toward the end of the meal, but Charlie was almost disturbingly cool to her. Betty had taken that act for all of two seconds before she’d called Charlie out on it and left. Cas watched as Jo did her best not to be happy about this development. Castiel was less enthused, as this most likely meant-

“I’m feeling kind of tired,” Charlie said. Although she said this to everyone, the audience meant to receive the message was pretty obviously only Jo. The message was received, as evidenced by Jo’s half drunken and self satisfied smirk. “I’m going to head up. See you guys tomorrow.”

Charlie got up and left. Jo’s eyes tracked her path across the room.

“This is her shitty way of apologizing, right?” Jo said out loud. Probably to Dean.

“Pretty much,” Dean confirmed. Jo didn’t wait a second longer before abandoning her drink to follow after Charlie up the stairs. Dean rolled his eyes and took her drink so he could pour it into his own. “More for me.”

Castiel glanced back toward the stairs.

“Jo asked me to come to prevent her from doing anything ill advised. I’m unsure whether this counts.”

“Don’t mess with it, those two are crazy about each other. Betty knows it too, that’s why she didn’t put up much of a fuss. She knows she and Charlie are just having fun. It’s different with Jo,” Dean said, waving off Castiel’s concerns. “Charlie just has… issues. A lot of us do.”

“Like your issues with your father.”

“Do you actually think before you speak?” Dean sputtered, spitting out part of his drink. “At least I’m not terrified of friendly waitresses. I mean, I know you guys have the whole no sex rule, but she wasn’t going to bite you.”

Dean paused a moment.

“Unless you asked nicely. Then she might have,” he said.

“How do you know about that state regulation?” Castiel asked. “I’ve… been lead to believe it’s not common knowledge.”

Dean focused on the entirely wrong part of Castiel’s query.

“Wait you turned someone else down,” he said, narrowing his eyes at Castiel. His eyes now gleamed in mischievous curiosity. “Who?”

“None of your business.”

“It was Jo, wasn’t it?”

“Actually it was Benny. He can’t keep his hands off of me,” Castiel said flatly. Dean nearly choked again, before he realized Castiel was joking.

“That was actually pretty funny.”

“I aim to please.”

“Oh I wish,” Dean muttered. Castiel started.

“What?”

“Nothing. So about Jo-“

“Ah yes. Jo,” Castiel said, deciding to steer the conversation firmly away from the direction he was sure Dean was going to take it. “I am curious why you are so adamant not to promote her.”

It worked. Dean was appropriately thrown, so Castiel further pushed into the new topic.

“It seems like it would make sense to promote Benny to a part of your counsel and give her his old position as a captain. She seems very keen to take on a leadership position, and more than capable of handling it.”

“Yeah, that’s not happening,” Dean said, shaking his hand. “If we get caught, the people at the top are most likely to be executed. Jo’s mom would skin me if there was any chance of that happening. Actually, Bobby and Jody would probably skin me too.”

“What are we going to do that for?” asked an unfamiliar female voice. Cas looked up to see Bobby and a woman with a short hair and a stern but warm expression looking down at the both of them. Dean stood up to kiss her on the cheek and hug her.

“Good to see you, Jodes,” he said. “I didn’t think you’d come in before we left.”

“I figured I’d make sure you all got sent off alright,” Jody said with a smile for Dean. She was quite maternal in her affection for him. “Whose your friend?”

“Cas.”

“Oh, right. The ex-soldier. Nice to meet you Castiel,” she said, reaching out to shake his hand. Castiel shook her hand and repeated her greeting. Then she turned back to Dean. “Ellen tells me you’ve been neglecting your command.”

“Sam’s got everything under control,” Dean defended himself easily. He clearly had a good rapport with this Jody.

“Well, in that case, want to buy Bobby and me some drinks? Little bird told me you have a million in state currency,” said Jody, sitting across the table from Dean. Bobby sat next to her.

“Ellen doesn’t let you two drink for free anymore?”

“Not on days ending in y,” Bobby muttered. “And sometimes she doesn’t let me drink at all.”

“She doesn’t want your liver to give out,” Jody said. “Which she’s right about.”

“Yeah, yeah. What would I do without the two of you,” Bobby muttered sarcastically. Jody rolled her eyes and ordered a drink from Mandy when she came around again. Bobby instead focused in on Dean.

“How are you doing kid?” he asked. Dean looked up at him and then back down at his drink.

“I’m good,” said Dean.

“You’ll tell your mother I said hello, when you see her?”

“Sure thing, Bobby.”

“Good,” Bobby said, sounding satisfied with the thoroughness of this brief investigation into Dean’s mental health. “I’m sorry you can’t stay longer. We miss you lot around here. You spent all that time at Superbia last year-“

“Actually, we were at Camp Jefferson Starship.”

“I ain’t calling it that,” Bobby said without pause. “We missed you is all. It was nice to have you and Jo and Sam back here.”

“Yeah. Well you know. Dangerous times. Sanctus is off of Zachariah’s priority list at least.”

“I know. Don’t mean I have to like the fact that means all of you have to leave so soon,” Bobby said. Dean seemed to be in agreement and Bobby let the sentiment hang for a second. “So Sam was talking to me about something.”

“Oh, great,” Dean muttered to himself. “I’m not going to like this, am I?”

“He thinks the kids should stay behind in Sanctus while you’re in Ira,” Bobby said. “And I’m inclined to agree with him.”

Castiel noticed Jody was now taking a sharp interest in the conversation. Bobby waited a few moments for Dean to respond, and when he didn’t Jody started talking.

“It’s not good for them to keep being moved place to place. I know you have Harriet and some of the parents teaching them, but we have a school here, with kids their age they can be learning with,” she pointed out. “Especially with…”

Jody glanced at Castiel and didn’t finish her sentence. But despite her polite greeting before, it was more than evident she didn’t trust him much.

“It’s not as safe for them anymore,” she finished carefully.

“Let’s leave Cas out of this,” said Dean, not bothering with tact. “And I’m not doing that. I’m not going to make people leave their kids behind.”

“Dean, be reasonable-“ Bobby started.

“Oh and tell Sam next time he wants to pull something like this, I’m going to kick his ass,” said Dean. “If he wants to tell me something, he can do it to my face.”

“Why would he, when he knows you’re gonna react like this?” Bobby asked, shaking his head ruefully. He opened his mouth to say more and then seemed to remember that Castiel was sitting there too.

“Everyone is coming with us,” said Dean. “That’s final.”

He didn’t stay long after that announcement. He also didn’t bother acknowledging anyone as he left. Jody frowned after him and Bobby sighed.

“We shoulda set Ellen on him,” Bobby muttered. “He’s always been a little terrified of her.”

Jody rolled her eyes and went back to her drink. Then the both of them realized Castiel was still there.

“I think I’ll leave as well,” Castiel said after a few seconds of awkward silence. “Good night.”

Castiel did walk up the stairs to sleep, but when he got to his room, all he could do was stare at his bed in a kind of muted terror of what he might dream that night. He stayed standing and frozen for a good five minutes before he decided he’d rather not sleep at all. So he grabbed his coat and made his way outside into the frigid night air. It had an unfortunate sobering effect on him, but it was better than having to deal with his dreams.

JANUARY 18, 111 A.L. - SANCTUS

Castiel was slumped over sleeping next to Selma in a van with Jo and Benny, when a loud rapping on one of the windows woke him up. He’d been asleep for only twenty minutes when this interruption to his much needed rest came. He pried open his eyes to glare at the source of the noise, which turned out to be Dean knocking on Benny’s window.

Benny rolled down the window so they could talk.

“Everything good?” Dean asked.

“Yes. We’re ready to go when you send us off. Has Sam, Tamara, and Gordon gone with their people?”

“Yeah, they’re on their way to Ira already. I’ll send you and Risa off in the next half hour, and Linda and I will head off about an hour after that. You remember the meet up point?”

“Yeah,” Benny confirmed. “Everything is set.”

“Great,” said Dean. He looked around the car at the there occupants. “How are the rest of you doing? Selma?”

“I feel well.”

“Jo?”

“Pretty damn good,” said Jo, flashing him a sunny smile.

“Yeah, spare me the details about that,” Dean said. “Cas?”

“I’d be better if you would stop talking and let me sleep.”

“Grumpy as usual. Awesome,” said Dean. “Alright. At ten, you guys start heading off to the first meet up point. Then tomorrow, we get in to Ira.”

“Sounds good, chief,” said Benny. Dean patted the tap of the van before walking off to the next one. It didn’t take long after that for Castiel to drift off again, considering he had slept not at all the night before…

**************

They sat under the tree, and sunlight filtered down green onto Anna’s bare shoulders, which Castiel was pressing a series of light kisses into. He moved up to her neck as she sat there impassively, staring into nothing.

“Do you ever… do you ever wonder if we’re doing the right thing, Castiel?” Anna asked him. He remembered this conversation. It had happened six years ago, shortly after Anna had made Castiel her second in command to replace the soldier she had executed for abuse of power.

Sometimes, Castiel had admitted then, and felt a thrill to say it out loud. Now though, the question was not as theoretical as he had thought it had been then. Instead it was personal to a level that he preferred not to examine.

“All the time.”

“You have doubts about the will of the state?” Anna asked, as she had the first time around. Castiel had admitted the first time that he did, that he wasn’t sure if every order he received was good or necessary and had confessed he had the tendency to interpret commands in the most forgiving light.

“I have doubts about everything,” he said now. Anna hummed and turned around to look at him. Castiel felt entranced by her, and he remembered that he had felt that the first time they had had this conversation too.

“I’m glad I chose you,” she said. After this she was supposed to walk off and leave him to his thoughts. But instead she leaned in close enough that Cas would only have to move a centimeter to touch his lips to hers.

“Anna-“

“Giving in isn’t going to kill you,” she pointed out.

“It could,” said Castiel. Anna raised an eyebrow at him, and leant back slightly. Cas felt himself almost lurch forward in response, and Anna matched the motion so they met in the middle. Castiel’s eyes slid closed as he kissed her. It only lasted a few seconds, but when drew back and opened his eyes he nearly jumped out of his skin to see a face that very much wasn’t Anna’s staring back at him.

“C’mon, sunshine,” Dean said, voice cruel and taunting. “You’re not actually surprised, are you?”

**************

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Part of this chapter includes a hallucination that looks like Anna making sexual passes at Cas that he isn't comfortable with. While under the influence of Sweet Dreams, people see what they fear most, and Castiel has deep fears of the fact that while Anna was alive he was sexually interested in her.
> 
> Also this is the first half of this part. I've decided to cut all of the parts into two so I can update faster but the next part probably still won't done for a while.


	4. Sings the Tune (Part 2)

JANUARY 18, 111 A.L. - CAMP CASSANDRA

“Cas, wake up,” said Selma, shaking Castiel lightly. Castiel jerked slightly as he woke, but relaxed when he saw her face. “Jo and Benny bailed and left me to wake you up… Did you have a bad dream?”

“Do people have good dreams?” Castiel asked in return.

“It might help if you slept when you were supposed to. You know. At night.”

“Thank you, I’ll remember that,” Castiel said. Selma crossed her arms, but didn’t tell him off for his sarcasm. “So we’re here?”

“Yes. Halfway to Ira,” Selma confirmed. “I have the night off. Jess, Cordy, and I were going to play poker. Are you interested?”

“Uh, yes,” Castiel said, trying to clear his head of the vague panic he still felt. “Just… just give me a little while to see what’s happening.”

“Okay,” Selma agreed. “Just ask around, and someone will point you in our direction when you’re ready to play.”

“I will,” Castiel promised. Selma nodded and headed off, leaving Castiel alone with his thoughts. Thoughts that were every day growing ever more confused and uncertain.

He felt very much like he was poking at the edge of a revelation, and the closer he got, the more wretched he felt. Something inside him was going to snap soon, he just didn’t yet know what it was. Whatever was going to happen, it wasn’t going to be pleasant for him.

Still, within a few minutes he had composed himself in the back of the car and then got out and started walking in the general direction that Selma had walked off in. He might as well keep up appearances as long as he could manage. What happened after that became impossible, he would decide when the time came.

He found a significantly more crowded and rowdy poker game than Selma had implied was going to be happen. Seven people were sat on boxes arranged in a circle around a makeshift table. It was too late to sneak away, however, as Selma had noticed him and sat him down next to her within five seconds on some boxes that were arranged a few feet away from the game. Jess turned to smile at him, and a few of the other people at the table nodded hello before focusing on the game.

Harriet and Boris were sat on the other side of the table. Harriet was playing while Boris drank from his flask and offered advice when she consulted him. The two of them appeared to be winning if the pile of assorted pills in front of them was anything to go by. Kevin, Sarah, and Frank all glared at them with varying degrees of malice. Cordy was holding her own, while Jess was losing gracelessly. Aside from her quick smile at him, she seemed to have had a permanent scowl stamped onto her face. She looked much more like Cordelia than she usually did.

Selma, apparently didn’t think gambling was good for the soul, and just liked to watch. Or that was what she told Castiel when he sat next to her.

“I’m surprised Jo didn’t want to play,” Castiel said as he sat watching the game. Kevin snorted, and glanced at Frank and Sarah. Frank rolled his eyes, but Sarah looked back at Kevin with amusement in her eyes.

“If Jo was here, we wouldn’t be. Charlie is quite the taskmaster,” said Sarah.

“The best part of when Jo and Charlie make up is our hours get cut in half,” Kevin agreed. “Oh, Selma, Risa said she’d be down to play too later, after Dean stops lecturing everyone. Mom and Jason might make an appearance too.”

Selma’s expression did interesting things when presented with that information. She settled on a polite smile after trying out twelve alternate emotions. Castiel felt somewhat poorly for knowing both about Selma’s feeling without her permission and also knowing that Selma’s feelings were unlikely to ever be returned by Risa.

“Is Cas going to play?” Jess asked, catching Cas’ attention.

“I was thinking about it,” Castiel said. “But I don’t have anything to bet.”

“You can play for me,” said Jess, a little sullenly. She passed her hand over to Castiel. “But I get to keep half of what you win.”

“You’re assuming I’m any good at this game,” Cas pointed out. “Half might not be very much.”

“It’s probably more than I’ll have left if I keep playing,” said Jess. She looked down at the piles of pills. “I’ll just end up trading these anyway. Three cheers for sobriety.”

“What are they, amphetamines?” Castiel asked, picking up one of the pills and looking at it. He wasn’t a stranger to drug use in order to stay awake for longer periods of time or to spike adrenaline. Soldiers used them infrequently, but enough that Cas knew just how useful it would be to have some around.

“Some of them are,” said Cordy. “Sleeping pills, amphetamines, and more recreational stuff. Don’t let Doc know though. He flips shit when he sees this stuff.”

Castiel reached into his pocket and pulled out the packet of painkillers Dr. Newman had given him, and then carefully spilled them out onto the table.

“I have something to bet after all,” he said, offering up a pleasant smile. “I will still share any winnings with you, Jessica, if you would still like me to play for you.”

“Knock yourself out,” she said, and made no move to take her hand of cards back. Cas nodded and sat at the place she had occupied, while Jess went to chat amiably with Selma behind him. Cordelia not so subtly moved to the right so there was no risk Cas might accidentally touch her.

Castiel had played many different card games among his garrison. Benjamin, Susannah, and Corinthia were better than he was at understanding the rules, and Uriel and Rachel had an uncanny ability to detect weakness or nervousness. That being said, he had more than once won the night. They weren’t allowed to gamble of course, as that would be against state rules and they didn’t have much besides rations to gamble with, anyways. Anna would have had an aneurysm if they had tried that, Castiel thought for a moment. He winced after he thought it, and hated how often he forgot how every thought of Anna smacked of pain and confusion.

“Do you know the rules, dear?” Harriet asked. Castiel nodded to her and looked down at Jess’ hand. It wasn’t a good one and he had no doubt everyone knew that considering she was so eager to pass it off to him. He folded immediately, and waited out until the next round, taking advantage of the time to examine the other players. Balthazar had always been good at picking out tells, but had the unfortunate habit of informing the other members of their garrison what their tells were so they could compensate for them. Castiel was less skilled when it came to subtle shifts in expression, and knew he wouldn’t be defeating anyone by waiting for a jaw to clench or a muscle to relax. Instead, he tried to get a sense of what everyone wanted out of the game.

Sarah and Kevin both wanted to win. Kevin was a careful player and Cas had a feeling he would be easily spooked. Sarah was a little more daring. Cordy was aggressive and Cas knew that her intense irritation with him would make it easy to goad her into taking risks. Frank didn’t seem to much care who won or lost, and instead seemed to be using the game as a means of figuring everyone else out, much the same way Castiel was trying to do.

And then there was Harriet.

She was difficult to read. A warm smile was never far from her lips, and she lost the current round with grace to Cordy, not for a second letting an ounce of disappointment show on her face. Castiel remembered the blunt way she had first spoken to him, unashamed of her disease or herself. Incredible intelligence sparkled beneath her eyes, and Castiel was unsurprised she seemed to be winning most hands.

He played a few rounds and got a firmer sense of each player, even winning one of the next five. That was around when a rather rowdy group of people started crowding around the table and distracting everyone momentarily from the game. Castiel looked up, expecting to see only Risa and Jason Tran, and surprised when he noticed Dean and Benny had accompanied them.

“What do we have here?” said Dean settling in next to Selma and nudging her into Jess so there was room for Benny to sit next to him on the row of boxes. Boris yielded his place next to Harriet to Risa and Jason practically crawled over Kevin to fit in at the card table, which led to no small amount of rough housing between the two cousins, until Boris threatened to shoot the both of them if they didn’t stop squabbling.

“You guys are so fucked if Doc finds out about this,” Dean said next. “I was never here if he gets wind you’re trading in this shit again.”

“What are we supposed to trade in?” asked Cordy. “You and Sam hold onto all the state currency we’ve got.”

“Yeah, cause this is a militia, not a casino,” muttered Dean. “You know what casinos are, right Cas? Last I heard, they still had a few out in Libidine. Or at least they did. Don’t know if they’re still up and running now that our guys have taken over.”

“I know what a casino is,” Castiel said, not bothering to look back at him and instead focusing on his cards. “And I haven’t been to Libidine in three years, so I wouldn’t know the state of them. I have heard rumors Raphael was considering closing them, but I don’t think she did. They made too much money not to keep open.”

Castiel hadn’t thought about the mayor of Libidine yet. When he heard the city fell, his first instinct had been shock. It had seemed so impossible. Now he wondered at what a city falling might have meant. A woman he had occasionally worked for might very well be dead at the hands of friends of the people he was now playing cards with. It didn’t sit well with him to think about, and perhaps that discomfort showed on his face because he ended up winning the next round when nobody folded despite having mediocre hands at best while Castiel had a straight flush.

After that he won a few hands in a row to the increasing annoyance of mostly Cordelia, who Castiel had a feeling was close to accusing him of cheating. The truth of the matter was that he had had a few lucky hands. He guessed she would be happy to know about the awful starting hand he had for the next round. The chances of his winning were slim if he played the cards, but this might be an interesting opportunity to play the people.

Everyone at the table knew he raised when he had a winning hand. That wouldn’t be enough to get all of them to fold, but he had a feeling Kevin and Sarah would. When he raised, they folded as he expected, and surprisingly Cordy folded as well. Jason ended up following suit, but Risa wasted no time in raising her own bet. Frank and Harriet matched her, and Castiel raised again. Risa matched him and Frank folded, though Cas had a feeling that was because he’d managed to get a glimpse at Risa’s cards while she was busy staring Cas and Harriet down.

That meant she had a good hand or at the very least better than Frank’s. Harriet seemed to notice the same but didn’t fold yet.

Castiel raised the bet again. When he looked up he saw Harriet staring at him, for the first time in the game appearing to stretch her intellect to figure him out. Castiel didn’t bother to return the favor. Harriet would remain a mystery to him, and he didn’t need to know her to beat her. He only needed to convince her he had no need to worry no matter the amount she scrutinized him.

He almost smiled when she folded, leaving only Castiel and Risa left. Cas pushed half of the remainder of his previous winnings into the center, causing the cocky smile on Risa’s face to slip just a fraction. She hadn’t won as much as he had, and she’d have to go all in if she wanted to finish this round with him. Risa looked down at what she had managed to win already and Castiel could see the moment when she decided to cut her losses and fold rather than risk losing everything.

There was a deep appreciation for the fact Selma was nearby and likely armed when he put his cards down on the table after that round. For a few seconds there was silence and then Harriet started laughing, looking a little bit delighted. Risa, on the other hand, looked like she might be plotting a way to murder him in his sleep.

“I haven’t seen anyone get the jump on Harriet like that since Sam played her,” Dean commented. Risa refocused her glare on him, which he did an admirable job of ignoring in favor of looking at Castiel thoughtfully. “Not bad.”

“I’m done playing,” Castiel said. He gave everything he won to Jess to quickly divvy up, then gratefully took a small cloth bag Selma offered him to place the pills in. As he exited the table, Benny stood up to take his place, pulling out his own stash of what passed for currency. Castiel sat between Selma and Dean to watch the game for a while. Jess left after a few minutes with Cordelia who had decided she was fed up with playing. Jess made a gesture offering to share, and Cordelia scowled at her as they walked off together.

Castiel refocused on the game at hand, using it as an exercise to confirm or challenge his assumptions about each of the players. He was distracted from this when Dean nudged him in the side with his elbow.

“You know you’re not keeping these, right?” Dean asked, voice lowered as though the matter was confidential. Castiel turned, a little surprised to see his pouch of pills had been swiped while he’d been scrutinizing Benny’s poker game. He tried to take it back, but Dean pulled it out of his reach.

“Suicidal people don’t get to keep large quantities of drugs.”

“Who says I’m suicidal?”

“According to your friends, you. Frequently,” Dean answered, head nodding towards Selma a little. She studiously ignored the both of them, though Castiel had no doubt she could hear every word. Dean was speaking quietly enough that likely no one else could overhear, however. “That was an interesting game.”

“I’m not going to kill myself. And if I was going to, I would still have plenty of methods left at my disposal with or without those pills,” Castiel said back, watching as Risa took the round and seemed to recover whatever of her pride had been shaken by his bluff. “Death by your own hand is, among other things, a sin.”

It was a useless statement. Dean knew as well as Cas did that he had nearly shot himself to avoid having to kill Anna. Still, Cas really wanted to hang on to what he’d won.

“Oh, right. I forgot you were one of our resident Jesus freaks,” Dean said. That managed to get Selma to turn her head to glare at him before crossing her arms in resigned frustration. Cas doubted Dean had been reluctant to share these views in the past then. At least he hadn’t brought up Anna, Cas supposed.

“Do you have an issue with that?” Castiel asked, as though the answer could be anything but yes. “Considering another one of your resident ‘Jesus freaks’ is your brother, perhaps you should tread lightly.”

“I have a problem with Christianity, not Christians. I’ve met quite a few of those who were decent,” said Dean.

“Like your brother,” said Cas.

“Yeah and a good friend I had a while back. Layla Rourke,” said Dean. He hesitated a moment as though unsure to continue. “Died of cancer.”

The same as Harriet. Castiel had no doubt this was not casually brought up.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“I’m sure you are,” said Dean, a little more emotion than he probably meant to show leaking into his voice. “Just goes to show you don’t need to outright kill the people who oppose you. Just refuse non-citizens medical care and they’ll die off on their own. Then monitor the citizens you do have and brainwash them into perfect compliance.”

He paused, waiting for Castiel to answer.

“I don’t know what you expect me to say.”

“Nothing. I just don’t see much of a difference between organized religion and our current government. It’s all fall in line or suffer the consequences and it bugs me how easy it is to get good people to do awful things.”

Cas’ expression didn’t change and Dean let out a somewhat frustrated sound, before falling back into silence. This wasn’t the first time he’d had this argument, and Cas would bet money he mostly had this argument with Sam and that Sam was a lot more reactive than Castiel was being.

“God gives me hope and strength,” Castiel said at last. “My actions are my own, and my guilt is my own. My best life would be one where I limit pain for as many as possible as well as I possibly can.”

“How does being a soldier fit into that?”

“I’m sure you’ve killed people. Some of them were probably innocent. And even if you haven’t, I can promise you that other members of your so called resistance have. That’s not to mention the issues with raiding food from cities in the past. People starved so your predecessors could eat.”

Castiel didn’t have to look to see that Dean was scowling.

“So about that poker game,” Dean said, twisting the conversation back to his needs. “Think you could beat Harriet a second time?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“She’s smarter than I am,” Castiel said, hesitating a moment before continuing. “She was waiting for me to stare her down. Attempt to puzzle her out. If I didn’t try that, it meant that I didn’t need to.”

“Decent strategy,” Dean said. Castiel had no doubt he’d known the way he had won since the entire time and just wanted to hear Cas say it out loud. “And Risa?”

“Risk and reward. One outweighed the other,” Castiel said. His eyes shifted to the bag. “Can I have that back now?”

“No.”

“I’m stronger than you.”

“You’re surrounded by heavily armed people that answer directly to me,” was all Dean had to say to that. That was both true, and discouraging.

“I was planning on trading them.”

“For what?”

Cas should have thought that lie through a little better. In all honesty he was planning on holding onto the pills until another poker game, or perhaps offering them to others when they were in need. Mostly.

“That’s what I thought,” said Dean, before Cas could think of anything. “But you know what? I’ll arrange something for you. I’ll trade these for something you need.”

“Do I get a say in that?” Castiel asked. Dean laughed, shook his head, stood up, and started saying some goodbyes to the people at the poker table before heading out to likely do his job again. Castiel glanced at Selma once he was gone.

“I had to tell him,” she said before anything else.

“I’m not going to-“

“I can’t forget what you said to Jo about wishing she had killed you. I won’t forget it,” she said quietly, fiercely. “And the jokes you make aren’t jokes, Cas. If I didn’t say something and you… I wouldn’t forgive myself.”

“Selma-“

“And Dean is an asshole about some things,” Selma said, clearly still a little stung about how dismissive Dean seemed to be about religion in general. “But he cares about his people. And I’m glad he took those from you.”

“It’s not your job to look after me.”

“You’re right. It’s not. But you don’t seem to be able to do the job yourself, so until that changes I’ll pick up your slack,” Selma said. “You should sleep.”

“So should you,” said Castiel. “I really am fine Selma.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you are a horrific liar?”

Castiel swallowed down every answer he could come up for that. None would inspire her confidence and more than a few were damning evidence of the fact he wasn’t nearly so much on their side as he would have them believe. Selma stared him down as he stayed silent and then crossed her arms and stared moodily at the raucous poker game that was being played feet from them.

JANUARY 19, 111 A.L. - IRA

Ira was a sprawling city so large that it was impossible to fully monitor or even attempt to do so. It was second only to Libidine in its discontent among the population with the state, and Castiel had always hated being assigned there, mostly because it was the city with the most violent encounters between soldiers and members of the resistance, and the resistance tended to be less hesitant about killing or injuring soldiers than the other way around.

It surprised him that Mary Winchester’s people didn’t even bother living outside the city, however. Benny was one of the first vans to arrive in Ira, and he went out of his way to drive around the checkpoints around the city, risking his tires on almost un-drivable roads. This only added to the discomfort of the ride, considering Jo was in a state of unreachable bliss after having spent the night with Charlie, Cas wasn’t speaking to Selma at the moment, and Benny was as belligerent towards him as ever. It was a relief when they finally stopped driving.

The surrounding buildings hardly looked safe to live in anymore, and old rusted signs advertised for long forgotten stores and restaurants. One of the window fronts that was still intact and hadn’t been boarded up read Biggerson’s. Sleeping bags lined the walls inside.

They ended up being directed toward an underground area to park by a woman with dark brown hair twisted in a bun. She walked down the tunnel as they drove and directed them to a space, then knocked on the window.

“Benny. It is good to see you again,” she said, her accent surprising Castiel greatly. The state didn’t allow movement in or out of the country, nor did they correspond with governments other than the Kingdom of Canada (two kingdoms now) and the United Republic of North and Central America, especially Mexico. Castiel had a vague notion that Japan had entered into a close trading and diplomatic relationship with the URNCA, but other than that he didn’t have much clue what the rest of the world even looked like. “Jo. Selma.”

She paused on the last name, raising an eyebrow slightly. Selma’s mouth twitched in mutual appreciation, and Castiel resisted the urge to ask Selma who she was.

“And who are you?” the woman asked, turning to Castiel.

“No one important,” he said. Not out of spite for Selma, just because he didn’t feel like answering he assured himself. Selma sighed.

“Castiel. His name is Castiel. And he’s usually not this rude,” she said. Benny snorted and shook his head in disagreement with that assessment. “I’m glad to see you, Delphine.”

Selma stepped out of the van, and without hesitation walked off with Delphine. Benny got out after them, and Castiel and Jo followed further back.

“Jo,” Castiel tried. It took her a moment to realize he was talking to her, but then she smiled and looked at him.

“Hey, what’s up Cas?”

“Delphine isn’t from the state,” he said, figuring that was question enough. Jo realized what he meant a second later.

“No. Joshua tried to push reaching out to European and African nations a while back. It didn’t end well, and Delphine got stuck on this side. She’s been here since she was sixteen.”

“Who’s Joshua?” Castiel asked.

“He used to be mayor of Ira. He was exiled after he made a play for Lightbringer,” Jo said. “Then he joined up with us.”

“And you trust him?”

“It’s been twenty five years and he hasn’t failed us yet,” Jo pointed out. “People change Cas. You should know.”

“I suppose,” said Castiel. The people who lived here were apparently much more careful than they had been in Sanctus. There was no bustling or working or living. Just quiet streets where Castiel could practically feel the eyes on him from various corners. “I don’t like it here.”

Jo laughed, looking around at the empty street and then pointing with her finger and imitating a gun going off at what appeared to be nothing. It wasn’t long until a man in well worn clothes and a mullet stepped from behind it and walked up to Jo, looking more frustrated than happy to see her.

“Damnit, Jo,” the man muttered. “Let a man have his pride. I was trying to get a good look at your friend here. You can’t just give my position away like that.”

Castiel decided to take an interest in this.

“I assure you I’m fairly uninteresting.”

“That sounds like something a spy would say.”

“He is a spy,” said Jo. “But he’s working for us.”

Ash knew. His eyes were as mistrustful as everyone in the resistance Castiel had ever met have ever been. He walked with a slouch and his body language spoke to being relaxed even if his expression betrayed a certain amount of tension.

“I’m sure you’ll be able to observe me much better from up close,” Castiel offered.

“He thinks he’s some kind of comedian doesn’t he?” Ash asked. The question sounded almost an accusation pointed at Jo.

“Sometimes he’s even funny,” said Jo, nudging Cas in the arm. He couldn’t help smiling back at her insulting tone. “Sometimes.”

Ash relaxed so quickly Castiel wondered if perhaps it was an unfair advantage for him to be good friends with such a likable person. There was a reason Dean asked Jo to do all of the recruiting. She was unrelentingly friendly and quick to put people at ease when she needed to.

“You don’t look like a cyborg,” Ash said next. “Frank’s under the impression you’re part machine.”

“Frank thinks that state leaders eat human spleens for fun. They’re awful, but they aren’t cannibals. Well, maybe in Lucrum,” said Jo, shuddering in disgust for a moment. Castiel looked at her curiously and she mouthed that she would tell him later before speaking out loud to Ash again. “Besides, Doc’s checked him out. He’d have mentioned if there was anything fucked up going on.”

“A cyborg?” Castiel asked curiously.

“Part man part machine.”

“That seems like a waste of precious resources for a military unit that is more than capable enough of dealing with threats without the assistance,” said Castiel, catching on. “Using limited materials for medical devices makes infinite more sense.”

“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger,” said Ash holding his hands up. “Just repeating what Frank said.”

“So Charlie’s around then?” Jo asked Ash, since Charlie and Frank had been traveling together. Ash nodded and they kept walking down the street after Benny, Selma, and Delphine. Ash nodded, holding up one of his hands so he could start counting off who was there as he listed them off.

“Charlie and her people, the good Dr. Newman and his family, Lydia and some of the kids, the Patels….”

As Ash was busy listing through them they arrived at the front entrance of a building that was guarded by a man so impressively large, Castiel wasn’t sure he’d be able to take him in a fight. Ash nodded at him and he stepped aside to let them in. Jo stopped a moment to ask the large man how someone named Aaron was doing while Castiel continued walking in and was surprised when he nearly tripped over two small girls that went running by laughing loudly with each other.

“Sorry mister,” one of them yelled behind them, while the second girl (who Castiel now saw was Emma), chased her down and tackled her to the ground. They dissolved into a fit of giggles before standing up to continue their game. Castiel supposed the other girl was Aditi Patel, since whenever he had overheard the edges of conversations about Emma, Aditi was almost always also mentioned.

He could feel Jo’s slow panic when she walked in behind him and saw him watching the two. He had no doubt she was going to try to move him along quickly, but perhaps she froze when she saw Emma take an interest in Cas. The girl nudged her friend and pointed at him, then strode over, dragging her friend behind her. It was strangely endearing.

“Hi Jo,” she says loudly. She then turned to Cas, looked him up and down, and waved at him too. “Hi.”

“Hello,” Castiel said in return. He could feel Jo’s eyes on him, the silent plea to keep moving forward and not continue talking to the girl. He didn’t know why he ignored her, except perhaps the fact that the guilt he currently felt made it impossible to move.

“I’m not supposed to talk to you,” Emma said confidentially, but still much too loudly to be much of a secret. “None of us are. Why’s that?”

Without thinking about it too hard, Castiel found himself crouching down slightly so he was level with Emma. She stared him down with much the same self assured directness of her father. Castiel swallowed and forced himself to meet her eyes.

“I’m not always a particularly nice person,” Castiel said to her. She narrowed her eyes at him for a moment before shrugging. “I’m sure they just want to keep you all safe.”

“Are you going to hurt us?” she asked, standing in front of Aditi defensively within seconds. Aditi rolled her eyes and tried to move her, but Emma remained fiercely dedicated to shielding her friend from any potential harm.

“No,” Castiel said quickly, feeling his throat constrict around the word. Not more than he already had by revealing her existence at least. Emma seemed to take his word for it, relaxing minutely and smiling once again.

“You should work on being nicer. Then we can be friends like Aunt Jo and Charlie,” she said happily, looking up at Jo with the kind of admiration that Castiel was sure Jo usually appreciated instead of looking like she was about to have an aneurysm. Castiel was distracted from Jo’s expression of sheer horror when Emma thrust a hand in his face. “Pinky promise?”

Castiel frowned, but dutifully held up a pinky which Emma took and shook with her own before running off with a much shyer Aditi who hadn’t said a word. This time Aditi chased after Emma while she shouted that she would never be taken alive. Castiel remembered playing similar games when he had first left Libidine, chasing down other girls and boys and being chased as a kind of precursor to the study in combat they would eventually do.

“Balthazar and I used to play games like that,” Castiel said out loud to Jo. “We became friends as children. I was so happy to find out I was assigned to the same garrison as him after the first two I was part of were dissolved. We hadn’t seen each other in eight years by then.”

Jo stared at him a moment before swallowing and deciding that it was better not to make it seem like a big deal that Cas had just spoken to one of the kids. She must have figured that Cas would just write off Emma calling her ‘Aunt Jo’ as something all of the kids did.

“You… you were pretty good with her,” said Jo cautiously. “You ever work with kids?”

“No.”

“You’re supposed to crouch down like that. Make yourself smaller. Figured you had experience.”

Castiel shrugged.

“I never much liked being spoken down to,” he said. “I tend to assume no one else does either.”

“So you’re an asshole to Benny on purpose.”

“Was that not obvious?” he asked, pleased to see Jo was smiling again. Ash had watched what had happened, and looked about as spooked as Jo had, but also willing to move on as quickly as possible. “Where are we going?”

“Mary has space for us,” said Jo. “Ash is going to show us where we’re staying.”

“Charlie can show me later,” said Cas. Jo’s expression let him know that wasn’t right. “What?”

“You aren’t staying with Charlie,” said Jo. “Sorry dude, but not really down with you, uh… listening in.”

“I don’t-“

“I know you don’t. You’re still not staying with Charlie,” said Jo. “Selma said she’d be willing to bunk with you along with Cordy and Jess. Or you could stay with Rufus, Gordon, and Benny, if you’re feeling masochistic.”

“I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable,” Castiel said quietly. Change was never something he saw coming or liked. He supposed he should have assumed Jo and Charlie would want more privacy now that they were… whatever they were. “In garrisons we don’t segregate by gender, but I know that that is not the case mostly for even citizens of the cities. And Selma’s religion does require a certain amount of modesty, and I wouldn’t want to-“

“Selma offered. She also said you’d probably turn her down because you’re angry at her.”

“I’m not angry at her.”

“Uh huh,” said Jo. “Because you acting super bitchy before was because Delphine just immediately pissed you off. Y’know, somehow. And I haven’t been on the other side of your cold shoulder, so I wouldn’t know what that’s like at all.”

“You did shoot me,” Castiel said, knowing it was both unfair and not why he had avoided Jo. They kept walking with Ash for a while until he showed Cas around to where Benny would be staying, apparently having decided for Cas. Perhaps Castiel would have taken offense to that if Ash didn’t sympathetically hit him on the back as he left, implying the action was done so that Castiel wouldn’t have to explain the choice to Selma. It was rather thoughtful of him, Castiel decided. “And if I was angry with Selma, I think it’s understandable. She had no right to tell Dean what I said to you, or imply that I’m planning on taking my own life.”

“What would you do if she said something like that in front of you?” asked Jo critically. Castiel looked away and opened the door to the room he would be sharing and walking inside to find it empty and therefore useless as a means of escape from Jo. “Yeah that’s what I thought.”

“She didn’t have to tell Dean. Why not mention it to Dr. Newman if she was so worried about my wellbeing? Or talk to me about it directly? I’m not stupid either, I know most of you go to Sam instead of Dean because he’s more agreeable to listening to useless concerns for the most part and-“ Castiel paused as he saw the expression on Jo’s face change from vague concern to a kind of amused interest. “What?”

Jo smirked at him.

“Dean, huh?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I mean if you’re going to break the rules, why not do it with the son of Mary Winchester herself, general of the enemy. That’s one way to say fuck the state,” Jo mused. “And the crush is cute, don’t get me wrong. Been there, done that.”

“You and Dean-“ Castiel began to ask, somewhat startled. Jo cut him off before the thought could even form.

“Oh God, no. Not that he isn’t nice about it, but after a certain point it feels like the people he sleeps with are just, well, another notch on the bedpost,” said Jo. “I have a hard enough time convincing people I’m credible. The last thing I want is someone saying I slept my way to the top.”

“You’re one of the most competent people I’ve ever met,” Castiel said, hoping the subject would be dropped. One look and he knew he had no such luck.

“Don’t try to flatter me into changing the subject.”

“I wasn’t-“

“Besides what I was going to say is if you like him, you might as well screw him. Get it out of your system, because Dean does not do relationships.”

“Like you got Charlie out of your system?” Castiel muttered back sarcastically. It was a cheap shot, and in a beautiful example of karma, it backfired spectacularly.

“So you do like him,” said Jo, triumphantly. “I knew it.”

“Jo.”

“Oh, it’s not a big deal. Don’t be a wuss. Half the people here have had a crush on Dean. I’m pretty sure Benny never got over his. It’s like a rite of passage.”

“I’ve already been through enough of those, thank you,” said Cas, remembering a variety of ceremonies in which future soldiers swore their loyalty to the state. “Besides, I’m genuinely not interested in him.”

Jo raised an eyebrow and looked back to the door as though surprised.

“Hey, Dean, when did you get here?”

Cas jumped and looked to see that the doorway was empty. He turned around to glare at Jo.

“That wasn’t funny.”

“It was a little funny,” said Jo, smirking at him.

“I greatly dislike you right now,” said Castiel, which just caused Jo to grin wider. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“You’re more fun when you’re flustered,” said Jo, amusement only increasing. His expression must have convinced her to ease off on teasing him because she made an effort to control her expression. “I’m dead serious, no judgment. And you’re secret’s safe with me. It’s what friends do.”

Castiel tried to look reassured, but it was hard to do when the three men he was going to be sharing the room with walked in and overheard the last part of their exchange.

“The soldier’s got a secret?” asked Benny, winking conspiratorially to Jo as he passed. “Does he blink when no one’s paying attention?”

“What’s he doing in here?” Gordon asked, clearly uninterested in anything to do with Castiel that didn’t involve him dying slowly. “Don’t tell me that Dean off loaded him on us.”

Jo shrugged at Gordon and left Castiel to deal with it by himself, saying she needed to check in with everyone and make sure no one was missing or in the wrong place. Castiel took the opportunity to put down the sleeping bag he had been given and show that he had no plans to claim one of the two mattresses that were in the room. Rufus, who was mostly unperturbed at finding out Castiel was staying with them had already claimed one of the beds, leaving Benny and Gordon to passive aggressively argue over the other mattress, a fight that Gordon lost by virtue of Benny questioning his manliness, a ploy that Castiel was surprised worked so well.

“You better not get fucking close to me, or I’ll kill you,” Gordon said in Cas’ direction, before tossing a bag of his possessions onto a weathered couch and stalking out of the room. Benny watched him leave, trying to keep a smile off his face.

“You don’t have to enjoy him threatening me so much,” Castiel said.

“You don’t have to look at him like he’s not worth licking your boots and that doesn’t stop you,” Benny pointed out in return. “Selma said she offered to take you in. I assume you decided against that for the friendly company.”

“Would you two shut up? I want to take a damn nap,” said Rufus sounding pissed off.

“Don’t mind him,” said Benny. “He’s all bark.”

“Just cause I haven’t shot one of you fools yet doesn’t mean I won’t,” Rufus muttered, already well on his way to sleep. Castiel watched his face relax with a mild form of envy. Sleep was never something Castiel looked forward to.

“Friendly company in spades,” Castiel said to Benny.

“You made your bed. Sleeping bag. Whatever,” Benny said, also excusing himself to go and do something useful.

Being left to his own devices at last, Castiel decided now was a good time to update Naomi about the current state of affairs. He didn’t know exactly where in Ira they were yet, but the city’s name and the understanding that Castiel now had access to the highest level of the resistance would keep her happy.

He finished his correspondence by stating he would send regular updates. That was of course, assuming Gordon wouldn’t actually murder him, something Castiel was not as sure about as he would like.

JANUARY 23, 111 A.L. - IRA

“Have you finished, Castiel?” Selma asked, passing by Castiel as he looked at the last shelf of supplies he’d been asked to take stock of.

“Everything is accounted for,” Castiel said efficiently. Selma waited a moment to see if he would go on, and her shoulders slumped a little when he didn’t.

“You hold grudges too easily.”

“My troubles aren’t yours to tell,” Castiel said. “I don’t repeat things you tell me in confidence.”

“That is not what happened, Castiel. And I won’t apologize for caring about your wellbeing.”

Castiel sighed and left the room, knowing Selma was glaring after him. They were frequently assigned to similar tasks in the mornings since Selma was up before sunrise for Salat and Castiel was an early riser, if only because he slept as little as he could get away with and still function. That, and Jo was slyly attempting to make them repair their friendship, which Castiel was currently resisting.

He was lucky that the rest of his day would be spent with Lydia and Jo in the city. Since Dean had a large sum of state currency currently at his disposal, he was sending small groups into the city to obtain weapons from factories, alcohol, and other items of interest. There was a priority on hygiene products, which Jo had repeated to him five times, so he assumed it was important.

He and Selma ended up sitting across from each other while they ate lunch with Lydia, Jo, Jessica, and Cordelia. The both of them did the best to avoid eye contact, and Selma grew more irritable as the meal went on. She was usually such a calm presence in Castiel’s life, and it wasn’t until they were at odds that Cas realized how much he had been relying on that. By the end of the meal, he was engaging in passive aggressive methods of annoying Selma just as much as she was him, and everyone else was doing their best not to feed into the toxic atmosphere.

After Selma left with the twins and Benny to go about whatever business they had on schedule for the afternoon, Lydia and Jo took time out to make sure Castiel was up to the apparently arduous task of shopping for supplies.

“First thing’s first, try not to walk ramrod straight,” said Jo as they left the building where food was made and served. Castiel was not looking forward to his shift there, and hoped that Dean wouldn’t manage to find a way to fit his men into whatever rotation Mary had for jobs.

“Slouching is bad for your back.”

“Yeah, well so is getting shot,” pointed out Lydia breezily. “Try not to talk a lot. You’re going to be sticking with me while Jo asks around about some of the less legal stuff we need. We’re just going to be stocking up on some necessities.”

“We send in different groups over a couple of days,” Jo added. “So it doesn’t look fishy. Clothes if we need them, birth control, condoms, basic medical supplies if we can get away with it, soap. Ammo. Most of the people who work with Mary stay with sympathetic citizens. We can’t without being noticed.”

“What do you do when you don’t have money?” asked Castiel. Jo and Lydia exchanged glances.

“What do you think?” Jo asked. Castiel knew she meant various raids that soldiers needed to defend against. They rarely ended well for resistance members. Jo’s dark expression let Castiel know that skilled as Dean’s people seemed to be, they weren’t immune to this phenomenon. “We’ve lost good people scrounging for food. We’re lucky that Dean talked us into a deal with Canada. Trust me, it hasn’t always been this easy, especially when even some of the rural areas aren’t exactly sympathetic to your cause.”

“I see,” said Castiel.

Jo left him and Lydia to themselves not long after that, blending in with an ease that made Castiel certain she wanted to be marked as different when she first met him. Making herself seem the rebellious outlaw type was sure to draw in the kind of people she would want to recruit in Superbia. Now she melted into the texture of Ira, and the much busier streets of the center of the city.

Lydia wasn’t quite so gifted, but she also exuded a sense of belonging to the environment that Castiel tried to mimic. His method of hiding was usually to stay to the shadows and avoid being seen rather than to act so innocuous that no one took notice. He could definitely see the merit in the latter.

“I’m curious,” said Lydia as they walked along. “Do you know where they are?”

“They?”

“The soldiers,” Lydia clarified. “Can you spot them?”

Castiel nodded and subtly pointed out the seven he could see on the street they were walking down alone. Two were stationed in front of the doors of a market, and several others were inconspicuously monitoring the rest of the street. Lydia noted them and let her eyes easily move past them so they didn’t draw notice.

“You counted one more than me,” she said, sounding not entirely comfortable with that fact.

“I just looked where I would want them to be,” said Castiel. “It’s not skill, it’s muscle memory.”

Lydia still didn’t appear entirely comfortable, though it was clear she recognized Castiel was trying to cushion her ego, so she smiled.

The two of them ducked into a store that sold soap, toothpaste, and detergent, and bought everything in as large quantities as they could. The man behind the counter eyed them suspiciously until Lydia put on an act in which she fretted over whether they would have enough for when her sister finally got her visit from Acedia approved, or if they should get more, oh and weren’t the prices good right now? Then the man’s expression changed from suspicion to mild disdain, and he sold them everything they asked for without further questions.

“C’mon, sweetie,” said Lydia, tugging Castiel out by the elbow so he would stop reading the various labels for the different soaps. The man rolled his eyes at her pet name and it took Castiel a while to register.

“That was an act,” Castiel said, glad when Lydia instantly dropped his arm when they walked off.

“Of course it was,” said Lydia, taking another step to the side and grimacing slightly. “You’re not my type.”

“Good.”

“Okay, that’s a little rude,” she said, rolling her eyes at the surprised look on Castiel’s face. He had just been honest. “I was just clarifying because you’re the one who said you ‘admired me greatly’.”

“I do. In a purely professional sense.”

“A professional at what?”

“Making Benny LaFitte’s life a little more miserable,” said Castiel. “Though I seem to slipping recently. I think he pities me, now.”

“Oh, does he?” asked Lydia. Castiel was glad to see she was once more at ease with him now that she knew he wasn’t going to make any sort of advances on her. He thought for what must be the umpteenth time it would be so much easier to operate in an environment where everyone was off limits and there could be no misunderstandings. “Is Gordon being that awful to you?”

“He describes to me how he’s going to kill me when I betray all of you at least two times a day. When he’s in a bad mood, torture is included. Other than that, there isn’t much variety in his methods,” said Castiel. “Benny used to think it was funny, but at this point he just looks disturbed. I think Gordon might hate me.”

“Makes sense,” said Lydia. “Benny’s too soft to stay pissed at you for distracting our leader the slightest bit.”

“What?”

“Oh, nothing. It’s just the only reason he was so awful to you for so long was because you punched Dean in the face and he laughed it off. Benny’s sensitive about Dean. They broke out of prison together, a long time ago, and Benny hasn’t left his side since,” said Lydia. Her eyes went a little distant as she kept talking. “Dean’s like that. Everywhere he goes he just… collects people. I mean, it’s not like I dreamed about being in a militia when I was a little girl. He was just supposed to be a fling. And now there’s… all of this.”

Lydia glanced over at Cas, who was carefully keeping his face blank. Gears were grinding in his head as he input this new information about Dean’s history in his head and started to process additional information he had about who Emma’s possible mother might be and he wasn’t able to find anything in conflict, unlike the other women he knew as absolute fact Dean had been involved with.

“But I’m kind of glad for it,” Lydia continued. “Because this is who I am, I think. A fighter. I just needed an excuse to see it, and, uh, certain circumstances made that clear to me.”

Castiel assumed she meant having her child as opposed to sleeping with Dean, considering she seemed to be lukewarm to him, if her tone speaking about him was anything to go by. He readjusted the strap of the basket of hygiene products he was holding so it didn’t press into his side quite so much before speaking again.

“So you’re happy? Being on the losing side?”

Lydia shrugged, taking the question for what it was.

“If it’s the right side, yeah. I’m happy with my decisions,” said Lydia. She looked up at Castiel. “Are you? This whole revenge for lost love or whatever… how’s it working out for you?”

“Why does everyone think I was in love Anna?” Castiel asked instead of answering the question. “She was my friend. Isn’t that enough?”

“Sometimes,” Lydia said. “But honestly? You’re a particular kind of fucked up that isn’t hard to pick up on. I mean, Selma picked up on it immediately and she would know. Her fiancee was killed a week before they were going to have Dean officiate a wedding for them.”

Castiel stopped walking.

“She… what?” he said, dumbfounded. The thought that Selma had faced such tragedy was… unthinkable. “But she likes Risa, and she and Delphine-“

“You can’t grieve forever,” Lydia pointed out. Then she frowned thoughtfully. “Well you can. And we used to think she would. Risa was safe to have a crush on, because she couldn’t like Selma back. And Delphine is never going to make a move. She’s too professional for that. Like you.”

“But Selma seems so peaceful,” said Castiel, anger all but forgotten for the moment. “I never suspected.”

“Yeah, well, she wasn’t always like that,” said Lydia. “They were in a fight when her fiancee died. It destroyed her, knowing that they never got to make things right. It was months before she started smiling again. I think the whole prayer thing helped, and Benny helped her through it as best he could, too.”

Castiel walked in silence for a while, knowing that Lydia was watching him think it through.

“So soldier, whatcha thinking?” she asked.

“Perhaps I have apologies to make,” Castiel admitted.

JANUARY 24, 111 A.L. - IRA

It was a day before Castiel worked himself up to speak with Selma. He saw her briefly around others the day before, but after returning with Lydia and Jo from gathering supplies, he didn’t see her alone, and it wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have in front of others. So instead he had returned to his room, and spent the night talking with Rufus about the pros and cons of different methods of cleaning weaponry.

Benny had told them to shut it about midnight, and Gordon had spent the entire time glaring malevolently at Castiel, so it was a rather uneventful night all things considered. Plenty of time for Castiel to think up something to actually say to Selma. That being the case, he thought he might have actually picked a direction to approach the conversation by now.

Before lunch, Castiel spent the morning in meetings with Risa, Linda, and Rufus to catch up on possible roles they might take in any attempts to overthrow Azazel. Castiel had been alarmed the first time this had happened, but had quickly gathered that: one, these meetings had been happening for years and as of yet Ira had not fallen and two, any plans to make another attempt at an all out revolt in Ira were dependent on factors that were not currently in the resistance’s favor. Public morale had swung towards the state after Libidine fell, and the complete lack of details surrounding Libidine’s current situation led Castiel to believe either Mary was no longer in contact with the faction who had successfully overthrown the city, or it was going so horrifically that revealing any details would only hurt the mythologized feeling of inertia that had built up around a single success.

After he was finally released from the meeting, he decided to put off finding Selma for a little while longer by stopping to see Charlie. He hadn’t had much contact with her since arriving in Ira. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but seeing Charlie in an impassioned argument with a more passive aggressive Ash on whose method of breaking down city defenses and decoding intercity messages was better was not what he expected to see.

“Castiel, my man,” Ash said, after having met Castiel once and not spoken to him since. Despite knowing there was no one else he could be speaking to, Castiel still had to resist the urge to turn around and check to see if he was speaking to someone else. Charlie seemed to think the same and side-eyed Ash before also saying hello to Castiel.

“Hey, Cas. I didn’t know you knew this second rate hacker.”

“Second rate, my ass, Red,” said Ash. He looked up at Cas. “Tell your friend that I’m under no obligation to change my techniques because she thinks she’s hot stuff.”

“Why would Cas take your side? He doesn’t even know you,” said Charlie, glowering at Ash again.

“I gotta figure I’m not the one who exiled him for week so I could get it on with my girlfriend. All things considered, I feel like I’m a bit more sympathetic at the moment,” said Ash. “Ain’t that right?”

Both Charlie and Ash looked at him, along with their underlings who had obviously already been eavesdropping on the fight. Castiel identified Frank, Sarah, and Kevin along with those who must be working under Ash. They all looked highly entertained, which added a little to Cas’ confusion because this could not be a productive work environment.

“I don’t know anything in your field,” he said at last. “I just wanted to ask how Crookshanks was doing.”

Both Ash and Charlie looked disappointed by his answer, and Castiel didn’t quite miss Charlie saying under her breath something along the lines of wishing he would have just picked a damn side. Hers specifically.

“The cat’s fine,” said Charlie when she was finished muttering. “Grumpy, because she’s not the center of attention right now, but you know how she is.”

“Right,” said Castiel, feeling the slightest bit unwelcome. “Well, I’ll leave you all to it. Sorry for… interrupting.”

Charlie half smiled at him before she went back to her work, going over the equations Ash had started jotting down when it was clear that Cas wasn’t going to be taking his side either. Cas was about to turn around and go off to find Selma, when he heard someone else from behind him speak.

“You guys haven’t started trying to kill each other yet, today, have you?” asked Dean, gently pushing Cas out of the way so he can walk through the doorway. “Oh, hey, Cas. Stick around, I’ve been looking for you,” he said as an aside before he went back to teasing Charlie and Ash, all the while checking in on their work. He made an efficient circle of the room, checking in with Sarah, Frank, and Kevin, along with the people Castiel didn’t know. In barely five minutes, he seemed to have had a significant interaction with nearly everyone in the room, and Castiel watched impressed at the slight adjustments he made with every new person he spoke to.

Then he was finished and Castiel was still standing there like he’d been asked, and he vaguely wondered why he hadn’t just slinked off when he had the chance. It would annoy Dean certainly, but having a conversation with him would counteract his recent effort to avoid interaction with him, if only to discourage Jo from winking at him when she thought no one was looking.

“So, I finally figured out what you’re getting in return for my very awkward talk with Dr. Newman about where exactly I got so many painkillers and amphetamines from,” said Dean, steering Castiel away from the computer room and towards the elevator with a hand on his back.

“It’s incredible how little I feel bad for you,” said Castiel trying to ignore the weight of the hand resting between his shoulder blades. “This will be quick, right? I need to have a conversation with Selma.”

“Glad to hear it. I know you’re pissed at her, but I’m pretty sure you need someone you feel comfortable opening up to. I think she does too,” said Dean, every word distracted. Castiel looked at him to see him checking some kind of communication device in his hand and scowling. Dean realized he was being watched a second later and cleared his throat, stowing away the device. “Sorry. Sammy and Tammy were supposed to organize recon tonight, but Tamara’s coming down with something. I’m just trying to figure out who’s going to fill in for everything else while Gordon and his people take over the recon.”

“If you’re busy-“

“I’m always busy,” said Dean, a note of tired making it’s way into his voice. “Not a big deal. So, what’d you think of the war zone?”

“You mean, Charlie and Ash?” Castiel said as the Dean hit a button for one of the upper floors and the elevator began to stutter and start it’s way upwards. “I don’t understand how work is supposed to get done when they both respect each other so little.”

“You’re kidding right? Charlie idolizes Ash, and he worships the ground she walks on. They’re just not… good with sharing,” said Dean. “Only children, let me tell you.”

“I’m an only child.”

“Doesn’t count,” said Dean. “How old were you when they decided the only thing you were good for was following orders and stuck you in a brainwashing center with a thousand other kids?”

The question rubbed Castiel entirely the wrong way, and he welcomed the flood of irritation in place of the awkwardness he had been trying not to think about since Dean had dragged him off in the first place.

“How old were you when you were sent to prison? Maybe it was around then.”

“Okay, okay, I get it. Fuck you, too,” Dean muttered. “You know what, though, I’m going to take the fact that you’re offended by that as progress.”

Castiel rolled his eyes at this logic. He waited for Dean to move on to some other topic, but instead the man just stood silently, still waiting for Castiel to answer.

“Nine years old,” Castiel said, watching the numbers change in the corner of the elevator and wishing they would change faster. Ten more floors to go.

Dean whistled.

“Nine years old,” he repeated. “And they’d already pretty much written you off as obedient and mindless, huh?”

“I suppose so,” Castiel said through gritted teeth at that description of the work he had been doing.

“There is so much they didn’t see in you,” said Dean. The elevator made a hollow dinging sound as they reached their floor. The doors opened and Dean walked out, looking over his shoulder at a Castiel who was staring after him in surprised silence. “Coming?”

Dean’s room was incredibly neat, and Castiel wasn’t sure why he’d expected anything else. Perhaps something about the way Dean presented himself suggested he wouldn’t be careful with his things, but the personal belongings Dean most obviously cared about were carefully organized on shelves in the corner of the room. Castiel was surprised when Dean walked over to his collection of books and picked one that looked well read before turning around and lightly tossing it to Castiel.

“You need to read something that the state didn’t ruin before approving for mass consumption.”

“I really shouldn’t-“

“It’s not fiction, it’s poetry. Not against state rules,” said Dean, with a grin. “You know, technically.”

Castiel felt his mouth close with an audible click as he looked down at the book. The name on the cover was Emily Dickinson, and he opened it to the first page to stare at the odd formatting of the words. He looked up at Dean.

“I’ve heard the word, but I never really knew… What is poetry?” he asked. Dean groaned and Castiel could feel his brow furrowing in confusion at the reaction.

“Trust me when I say, that’s something you have to figure out for yourself,” he said, with a shake of his head. “Honestly, it’s not really my thing, but… I don’t know, I figured you’d like it. Try- try page fifty four. It starts ‘Some keep the Sabbath going to Church’. Layla liked that one, and you two… you’ve got similar vibes.”

“Thank you,” Castiel said, eyes now glued to the floor for no discernible reason. “I really should go and find Selma. Lunch will be over soon, and I don’t want to distract from any work she’s assigned to-“

“Go ahead. I should check in on Tamara anyway. Make sure she lets Dr. Newman get a look at her,” said Dean, waving Castiel off. He was glad to be given a clear dismissal so he could leave immediately without appearing to be rude.

Doing his best to shake off his conversation with Dean, Castiel made his way to the dining hall down the street from the building where the more senior of Mary and Dean’s people stayed. He only had to scan the crowd eating for a few minutes before he caught sight of Selma, who was busy eating with Jessica, Cordelia, Delphine, and a woman who Castiel had been introduced to named Eileen Leahy. Selma looked up at him, sighed and looked back down at her food, clearly expecting more of the same. Castiel ignored the twinge of hurt he felt at the reaction, knowing it was not only deserved but would be entirely earned if not for what he now knew.

“Selma, can I speak with you?” he asked. She looked up at him with narrowed eyes.

“Why? So you can tell me off again?” she asked, not sounding even a little bit happy with him. “I’d rather not, Castiel.”

“No,” he said. “I’m here to… perhaps apologize is not the right word. I’m here to make amends. If you’ll still let me.”

Selma’s chair scraped back as she stood up. She adjusted her hijab on her shoulders and nodded towards Jess when she offered to take Selma’s dishes back to the industrial kitchen behind the dining hall. She followed Castiel out and waited impatiently with her arms crossed for Castiel to speak first.

“Well?” she said at last.

“I’m not in a good place. I am self aware enough to admit that,” Castiel said, deciding that was a good place to start. “Some days I don’t even know if I’m still sane. But the last thing I want is more agency taken away from me.”

“I didn’t want you to hurt yourself,” she said, arms falling to her side as she looked imploringly at Cas. “I did the right thing, and you can’t convince me otherwise. So don’t try.”

“I’m not,” Castiel said, holding his hands palms up in an attempt to telegraph that his intentions weren’t hostile. “What I wanted to say was it didn’t occur to me that… perhaps you were doing what you wished someone had done for you.”

Selma’s eyes fell shut instantly and her expression fell.

“Who told you?”

“That isn’t important,” Castiel said. Loyal as always, a voice that sounded a lot like Anna’s mocked in the back of his head. “Selma-“

“I had lows, but I never wanted to die. It’s not the same, Cas. You need help, and someone had to say it. Maybe… maybe she was part of why I tried to help you at first, because I suspected you’d lost someone with everything left unresolved, the same way I had. But the way you’re grieving isn’t healthy,” said Selma. “All you do is bury your pain, until you can’t anymore. And you act like no one should care about you.”

Castiel opened his mouth to speak.

“Don’t you dare interrupt me,” Selma whisper shouted, eyes looking around to make sure no one else was listening before she continued a lot more calmly. “I won’t be punished for caring. And I won’t lose more friends if I can help it.”

Castiel waited a moment to ensure Selma was done speaking before he attempted to reply again.

“I can’t sleep,” he said at last. “And it doesn’t get better. I have to… if I don’t make light of it I don’t know how I’ll function.” But you don’t have to worry about me. I made a friend a promise that I’d stay the course as long as I can, and I don’t break promises.”

“What about that would make me think I don’t need to worry about you?” Selma asked, pity for him overtaking her face. “Maybe talking about it would help. Not even necessarily me, just… someone.”

“Did it help you?” Castiel asked. Selma nodded a little solemnly. “Benny doesn’t seem like he’d make a sympathetic ear.”

“A lot of us have lost people, Cas. We all wear grief differently,” said Selma. “Not to take away from your pains, but you aren’t the only one who has them. Most of us learn to live with the regret eventually. We learn to smile again.”

The thought of Benny grieving for some long lost figure in his past doesn’t fit in with what Castiel knows about him. Then again, he didn’t suspect tragedy in Selma’s life either, despite having spent so many hours working and enjoying her company. The idea of either of them even remotely understanding what he was going through had simply never occurred to him.

“What was her name?” Castiel asked when Selma noticed the flood of people leaving the dining hall and heading off to afternoon assignments. She stopped her distracted dance when she heard the question, and half smiled in bittersweet nostalgia.

“Erica,” she said a little softly. “I never met someone I loved more.”

Selma shook herself out of it a moment later, noticing that the stream of people leaving was already growing think and realizing she would be late if she stayed much longer.

“I have to go,” she said.

“Are we friends again?” Castiel asked before she could leave. She raised an eyebrow at him.

“We never weren’t friends, Cas. It takes more than a few days of ill tempered conversation to drive me away.”

Like constant and continued betrayal in the form of working for your enemies?

“I don’t deserve you,” Castiel said in the name of trying very hard to shoot himself in the foot, metaphorically.

“Stop saying things like that,” said Selma as she left, taking a moment to pat the side of Castiel’s arm and calling behind her as she left: “Take care of yourself. Please.”

***************

“She’s right you know,” Anna murmured to Cas as he rested his eyes, somehow still able to know just how she looked through his closed eyes. Such was the logic of dreams.

Anna sat against an apple tree, idly flipping through a book while Castiel lay next to her, resting his head against her thighs. Cas acknowledged with a soft hum that Anna had spoken but didn’t say anything in return. For perhaps the first time, he felt so entirely at peace while being haunted by the shadow of his former commander. They were both in civilian clothes, and the sun was filtering down through the leaves of the apple tree just the way Anna liked.

“You promised me you would keep fighting. That means keeping yourself sane,” said Anna sternly. “Castiel?”

“Do you hear birds singing?” Castiel asked instead, smiling a little when Anna rolled her eyes at him. She went back to flipping through the book and Castiel recognized it now as the one Dean had given him. “Why are you reading that?”

“I’m dead. What’s the point of following rules I didn’t care about in the first place?” asked Anna. She looked down at the book and started to recite: “Some keep the Sabbath in Surplice— I, just wear my Wings— And instead of tolling the Bell, for Church— Our little Sexton sings—“

“I know how it goes,” said Castiel. He’d spent the afternoon reading it over and trying to divine meaning from it before discovering a glossary at the back of the book and going back to decode the poem armed with the literal meaning of the words at least. “It was thoughtful of him to recommend it for me.”

“Perhaps he likes you,” said Anna, grinning when Castiel seemed to stiffen slightly. “Or perhaps you like him.”

Castiel was saved having to comment on this when a dove hopped down from the branches of the tree onto Anna’s shoulder. Then it started up singing again, and Cas reached up for it, surprised when it pecked at his finger. It didn’t hurt but when he drew his hand back it was bleeding and suddenly—

“You always start bleeding,” Cas said to Anna who was already clutching at the wound in her stomach. He sat up, laying her down and applying pressure to the wound like he did every time his mind made him relive Anna’s death.

“I’m getting a little sick of dying, Cas,” said Anna, sounding more put out than in pain this time. “Can’t you let yourself have one nice moment? One harmless dream? I swear, your guilt will be the death of us all.”

“You’ll be fine. You’re going to be fine—“

“Back on script, are we, Castiel?” Anna muttered. “And you were doing so well.”

“Yes. It’s just like going to sleep,” Cas said robotically, unable to help himself.

“And instead of getting to Heaven, at last— I’m going all along,” said Anna as the light faded from her eyes. “You can’t waste your days waiting for redemption, Cas. That’s a path you have to follow yourself.”

She closed her eyes and Castiel felt the familiar panic rise up in his chest. It was soothed a moment by the sweet chirping of a bird before the dove hopped over Castiel’s frozen fingers and began tearing at Anna’s broken flesh, staining it’s white feathers red with her blood.

*********************

JANUARY 27 111 A.L. - IRA

It was sudden, the shift in atmosphere in Ira. There was tension in the air as reports came in of major conflicts between Invidia and Superbia funneled through Charlie and Ash’s intelligence reports, with Azazel being asked to choose a side to support in what was fast becoming a political campaign in a system that wasn’t built for such things. The exiled Joshua was what had resulted the last time someone had attempted anything like the coup that Zachariah was now trying to pull over on Naomi. And despite widespread support in Ira, he had even been soundly defeated by the other cities uniting against him.

Castiel sat now in another strategy meeting. Mary Winchester, her sons, Eileen Leahy, and Billie (recently returned from Guttur) were the main voices in making arguments for how best to capitalize on the opportunity. Jody, who had been sent from Sanctus, and at least one person from every other faction of the resistance excluding Libidine were also present, along with Charlie and each of Dean’s captains.

Castiel had yet to speak up at all, though Charlie and Ash was frequently asked for opinions and were sat next to him, which meant he couldn’t really do anything unnoticed, like send Naomi notes about the meeting or ask her opinion on whether to encourage unrest in Ira or prevent it depending on what would ultimately be beneficial for the state, since the current division clearly wasn’t going to allow for a stable country.

Whether or not Ira was going to throw its support behind Naomi or Zachariah was yet to be determined, likely by even Azazel himself who would want to side with the winner. The mayor of Guttur, Markov, had already strongly come forward in favor of Naomi while the mayor of Acedia, Nicolas, had made it clear he favored Zachariah. Lucrum had yet to pick a side, and their politics were even murkier than Ira’s, but whichever side they picked, Ira was likely to follow. This meant that Azazel had to balance the need to maintain his neutral position without angering either Naomi or Zachariah for as long as it took to figure out who the winner might be.

Castiel was reflecting on all of this when Charlie elbowed him hard in the side. He looked up to see everyone was looking at him and he wondered what he had missed when he let his mind wander.

“I’m sorry, I-“

“Has Naomi sent you anything we can use?” Dean asked again, voice on edge in a way it usually wasn’t when he was speaking with Castiel or anyone else for that matter. Castiel frowned at him before responding.

“She- she’s in contact with Lucrum,” Castiel tried. Dean rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, tell us something we don’t know,” he said.

“I know as much as you do,” Cas said, trying to keep his voice at least a little respectful despite being blindsided by the sudden hostility. “If I had new information, I would have shared it.”

“Would you?” Billie had asked, also staring Castiel down. He once again was overtaken by the impression that she could see right through him, and didn’t much like what she saw. “You’ve been quiet.”

Castiel didn’t have to look to know that Gordon was the one who was laughing at his expense.

“I prefer not to speak when I have nothing to say,” said Castiel. He could tell by the rising tension in the room that that wasn’t good enough. “The only thing I could think to add would be that if I was the mayor of Lucrum, I would side with Naomi. Otherwise they’re geographically isolated and much too close to Libidine for comfort. Then again, Roman is not… normal.”

“I can second that,” said one of the woman Castiel had yet to meet. Her hair was short and blonde, and she had a lean look about her. “Roman’s conniving, but he’s proud. He likes Lucrum’s business to stay in Lucrum. We’re pretty sure that’s why he drugged the water supply, so everyone’s too blissed out to ever leave or betray him.”

“He did what?” Castiel said, perhaps a little too loudly. Everyone went back to staring at him. “I didn’t mean to shout. I apologize if I frightened you…”

“Kate,” she offered. She frowned at him. “You seriously didn’t know that? Haven’t you been to Lucrum to terrorize the public or whatever it is you used to do?”

“Three times to patrol,” Castiel answered instantly, scowling at her. “We had limited citizen interaction at the outskirts of the city. I knew they were strange, but you can’t seriously think anyone would let it stand for a mayor to poison his own citizens-“

“He’s new,” Dean said, cutting Castiel off. He was looking a little warily at his mother’s incredulous expression, and winced when she raised an eyebrow at him. “We’re still working on deprogramming him a little.”

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t speak about me like I’m not in the room, Dean Winchester,” said Castiel. Dean’s head snapped from his mother to look at Cas.

“You want to pull this shit now? Answer questions when we ask you to or keep your mouth-“

“Can everyone stop bickering?” said Mary, talking over her son.

“Sorry mo- ma’am,” said Dean correcting himself at the last second. Castiel saw some kind of expression flash across Mary’s face at that, perhaps regret, but it was soon gone.

“Eileen,” she said, signing to her second in command in addition to speaking. Eileen also had Delphine next to her taking notes, in case Eileen missed any side conversation that happened while someone was speaking. “Do you have any thoughts about this?”

“I think Lucrum is going to side with Naomi,” Eileen said out loud. “So we need to get Ira with Zachariah so it’s an even fight. As long as they’e fighting each other, we have an advantage.”

Castiel couldn’t help speaking up. His signing wasn’t fantastic, but he soldiers were all taught as part of training to have a working knowledge of ASL, so he did his best to sign as he spoke.

“How would you do that?” he asked. “Azazel isn’t interested in seizing more power for himself. And Naomi has the right to succession. If he’s smart he will side with her eventually, even if Lucrum stays out of it.”

Everyone seemed to think about that for a moment. Then Tamara snapped her fingers.

“We’ve already convinced them we went after Zachariah because of Naomi. If we fake a few communications between us and her and let Azazel discover them, he might just buy it. Especially if we can time an attack with one of Naomi’s offers. Make it seem like she’s threatening him into compliance.”

For the first time since the meeting started, Mary smiled.

“That just might work,” she said. Tamara grinned back at her, and then her eyes shifted to Sam who wouldn’t quite look at Tamara. Castiel frowned at this brief moment of discord, having not seen any outward signs of issues in their relationship before then. Only little moments of Sam perhaps not seeming entirely secure in it that might have been flukes. Tamara looked a little frustrated by Sam’s lack of response and her eyes narrowed at him.

Dean seemed to notice this too, and swallowed uncomfortably before moving the meeting forward.

“Joshua, you know Azazel better than the rest of us. Would he buy it?”

Joshua frowned thoughtfully, and spent another thirty seconds thinking before he answered. When he did he spoke with care, as though every word was carefully chosen.

“He won’t take well to being threatened, if he perceives it as such,” Joshua began. “But we would need to be convincing. Azazel is no fool. He knows Naomi is the safer bet if there must be war to determine the next Lightbringer.”

“It’s something then,” Mary said, nodding to herself. “Alright, I think we’re done for the day. Gabriel, Donna, Jody, Kate, and Billie, I’d like you all to get in contact with your respective leaders and come back tomorrow with usable information on how our factions in each of the cities can respond to unrest. Dean, I’m going to request you confirm intention to stay in Ira for the the foreseeable future so we can strategize.”

“Sounds good to me,” he said, making quick eye contact with Sam who also nodded. His eyes then made a quick scan of his captains faces, and then Charlie and Cas before he looked back at his mother seemingly satisfied. “Can I ask for flexibility in sending small groups to help out in other cities if we need to?”

Mary thought for a moment, but eventually signaled agreement.

“We’ll take it on a case by case basis. Alright, everyone is dismissed for today,” she said. As soon as she was done, she went back to signing with Eileen about the meeting. Castiel picked up enough to tell the general subjects, but knew he wasn’t fluent enough to trust any details. Most everyone else left immediately, as it was late and they likely wanted to get to sleep. Gordon, Rufus, and Risa had already left the room, along with the five people who had been sent by the other cities to be kept in the loop on Mary’s plans and Ash. Benny looked as though he was planning on staying, but after Dean made a gesture for him to leave, he was gone quickly too.

Sam had also left rather hastily, leaving Tamara glaring at the door in frustration, while Linda subtly squeezed her arm and then offered to walk back with her. Cas turned to look at Charlie, who was standing next to him to see if she had noticed, and although it was clear that she had, she didn’t look surprised.

“Is Tamara alright?” he asked. Charlie nodded.

“Uh yeah. She and Sam are having marital issues,” Charlie said. “You know how it is. Sometimes people just can’t see eye to eye on what they’re going to get out of a relationship.”

“Are we still talking about the same thing?” Castiel asked, seeing a slightly distant look in Charlie’s eye. She shrugged then stood up from her chair and walked around Dean, Eileen, Joshua, and Mary with Castiel tailing behind her.

Once they reached the building put aside for residence, Charlie made her own way back to her and Jo’s room and Castiel made his way to the room he shared with Gordon, Benny, and Rufus. When he opened the door, it was to find each of them already asleep, which thankfully meant that Gordon wasn’t glaring at him for the moment. Cas made his way over to the corner where he usually slept.

JANUARY 28, 111 A.L. - IRA

After several hours spent staring at nothing and thinking over his absolute failure to prevent the resistance from forming a reasonable plan to execute against Naomi, Castiel decided if he wanted to get any sleep, he might have to tire himself out. He quietly got up, and put on clothing warm enough for the cooler air, but still breathable so he wouldn’t soak through them with sweat while he was running.

Avoiding the people who were supposed to be on watch was perhaps too easy, and Cas briefly noted in his head that perhaps he should inform someone about that. Dean or Naomi, or even just Charlie. Someone. Then he tried shaking that thought from his head as he started pushing himself faster, welcoming the distracting burn in his calfs as he ran through the broken down streets of Ira, avoiding spots where the road cracked down the center or where sidewalks were reduced to sharp pieces of rubble.

It wasn’t long until sweat was streaming down his face, and he lifted an arm to wipe off where it pooled on his chin with his sleeve. The steady pounding of his feet was an excellent distraction from everything he’d rather not think about, and it was a long while before he convinced himself to loop back towards the section of Ira that the resistance had claimed for themselves.

He was surprised, considering the early hour, to hear two voices arguing quietly in one of the communal rooms on the first floor that were mostly used for more informal meetings, like the one that had been held when Jason had locked Kevin out of the room they were sharing while he was only wearing underwear. The warning given to Jason might have been more effective if Dean hadn’t obviously been so amused by the prank. Then again, the tongue-lashing Linda followed up Dean’s official warning with was more than effective enough for the both of them.

Out of curiosity, Cas walked closer to the door and began to listen in.

“-just don’t understand.”

“We need both you and Tamara. And I’m not going to go against her decision. You know that.”

“I’m not asking you to. I’m just asking for a little more time for the two of us to talk.”

Cas frowned as he continued listening, recognizing the two voices as belonging to Sam and Dean Winchester.

“Talk about what? You want to raise a kid in a war zone?”

“God, that’s rich coming from you,” said Sam, the sound of bitter laughter following the statement. “How many times have I told you that Emma needs a stable home, huh? How many times have Bobby, Ellen, and Jody offered her that?”

“That’s not the same and you know it.”

“Really? How?”

“Lydia actually wanted to have Emma. And we weren’t together, and she wasn’t part of the fight yet,” said Dean. “Even if you talked Tamara into this, and don’t count on that for a second, are you really going to be happy sending your kid off to be raised by someone else? For how long?”

“That’s not what I was going to do,” said Sam. the silence following that sentence was long, and Castiel wondered if the conversation was over until he heard Dean speak again, though much more quietly.

“We actually have a shot at winning now, can’t you wait on the family front until after-“

“It might take years to win, Dean,” Sam pointed out. “What if Tamara and I can’t have kids by then? What if this is our only shot?”

“And what if Tamara doesn’t want another kid?” Dean whisper shouted back. “Have you even started to imagine what this must feel like after what happened to her daughter?”

Cas waited for a response from Sam, but all he heard was the sound of a door slamming from within the room, which meant Sam had exited out of the other entrance. Cas stepped back from view and only saw a little of Sam as he made his way towards the elevator, punched the button and disappeared inside. It was only a few seconds later that he realized this meant that there was no easy way to leave his hiding spot if he didn’t want to be seen when Dean left the room, and if he were to walk out of the door Castiel was standing by-

“How long have you been there?”

Castiel looked away from the elevator to see Dean had just opened the door next to him before jumping back to see him there.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Castiel said, which wasn’t an answer and had Dean narrowing his eyes at him.

“Let me repeat myself: How long were you standing there?”

“A while,” Castiel said truthfully enough. He shouldn’t have been surprised when Dean pushed him hard against the wall and put his forearm over his throat, but he was. Dean was many things, but aggressive he usually wasn’t. Then again, Cas could see almost instantly this was motivated by fear rather than anger.

“You’re going to tell me exactly what you heard. Word for word, do you understand me?” he said, unable to keep the panic completely out of his voice. Cas swallowed, and no lies came to him.

“I already knew about Emma, Dean,” Cas said, keeping his voice as neutral as possible. Dean’s face fell, and he took a step back, dropping his arm and instead turning away from Cas, his hands starting to pull at his own hair. Finally, he collected himself enough to look at Cas again.

“How?”

By accidental snooping didn’t seem like the appropriate answer. Especially since he had just been caught doing the exact same thing.

“She looks just like you,” he said instead, because it was true. Dean was obviously startled by that answer for a moment before his face hardened again.

“No, no, no, you do not get to just,” Dean said waving his arm a little in an emphatic and meaningless gesture. “Just… whatever your way out of this.”

Castiel frowned in confusion.

“Was I supposed to understand what that meant?”

“You’re in Naomi’s ear. You think that I would believe you didn’t-“

“She knows, I admit it. But if I hadn’t told her Meg would have,” said Castiel, which was a lie because he had no idea if Meg had figured out whether Emma even existed, let alone her parentage. That being said, it was a secret Dean could never have hoped to keep forever. “If it gives you comfort… I would never harm her. No matter my orders.”

The worst part was it was true. Even if it meant failure, that was a line he wouldn’t cross.

“Really? What was that last mission you had before you lost it and ran away, Cas? Wasn’t it shooting a bunch of kids the state did messed up tests on after they found out they couldn’t control them?”

“You did,” Castiel corrected without thinking. “Well not you, but your side.”

Dean just started laughing at him at this point.

“It fucking sucks that you’re so blind,” he said after a moment. “I think there’s a good person buried underneath all the bullshit they forced on you, but you don’t ask questions do you?”

“I-“

“In what world do we have the technology to do any of that, Cas?” Dean said enunciating each word. “Think long and hard about that.”

And God, how obvious it seemed in retrospect. Castiel could feel everything he thought he knew about the world falling down around him. Considering how long the cracks had been forming, he wasn’t sure why it shook him quite so deeply. But it did. Everything fell.

“I’ve been working for Naomi this entire time,” Cas said flatly. His arms hung at his sides and made no move to defend himself, should Dean take exception with what he had just said. “It would be in your interests to eliminate me.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” said Dean. Cas stared at him in astonishment. “You aren’t the only spy we’ve got, in Superbia, Cas. You’re just the one with the most access to Naomi. After you failed that test, Sam figured it would be fine to keep you around because you’re obviously terrible at all of this and we could feed you more false info. No offense. We were so busy watching you, though, that Meg slipped through the cracks.”

Castiel could only stare at him and wonder how in the world Dean had known he was actively working against him this entire time and let him continue.

“And then you saved Charlie, which I know for a fact you weren’t supposed to. You switched sides a long time ago, Cas. You just hadn’t figured it out yet,” Dean finished. “So I kept you around. And it paid off, because I don’t know if you’ve noticed but you’ve done a lot more for us than you have for her.”

“Who knows?” Castiel asked next.

“Charlie, Sam, and me. That’s it.”

Cas nodded and closed his eyes as he sat against the wall.

“You all knew this whole time, and you still treated me well. Charlie has defended me more than once against people who doubted me. Why would you…?”

“You’re not the first productive citizen we’ve turned around, okay? No need to get weepy,” said Dean. “Sam was a scientist, Lydia was a nurse, Benny was a fucking prison guard and-“

“You escaped prison with a prison guard?”

“I mean, he did have the keys,” said Dean. “I like to think I’m a good judge of character. For the most part, at least. You give good people options, they try to do the right thing. So, I have to ask you: Are you going to do the right thing?”

Castiel looked down as he thought about it. The evidence for all of the allegations against the state that Castiel had heard was too compelling. The strange behavior of the citizens of Lucrum, Zachariah’s willingness to use chemical weapons as a method of execution without proof of guilt, and now the realization that the state was doing tests on children for whatever reason…

Then again, he wasn’t quite so swayed into thinking along the resistance’s side. As far as he could tell, their plan was to tear down the system’s in place without a thought for how they should be replaced or what values should influence a new system aside from the all too complicated and vague concept of freedom. They wanted out from under the state’s thumb, but what could be expected after that? A military state under Mary Winchester? And who was going to be punished for the crimes of the state? When the power swung, the bloodthirsty would cry out. Did men and women that Castiel had worked with, who honestly thought they were defending the people of the state, deserve the vitriol that would be directed towards them?

It all came down to one thing. Whatever misgivings Castiel had about the future, he now knew that the past was indefensible. The current abuse of power could not stand, and he would not fight to ensure the status quo.

“I’m supposed to serve citizens’ best interests. You’ve convinced me the current regime does not have those at heart,” he said at last.

“I’m glad to hear,” said Dean. “But just so you know. You and me? We are not good. I get that you’ve officially seen the light and all that, and God help me, I actually like having you around, but you should never have brought Emma into this. And there’s no way in hell you didn’t know better.”

“I understand,” Castiel said, because he did. The guilt had not lessened with his confession, nor did he expect it to. Just another misdeed to carry with him, another act in the strange grey area he had been operating within. “But I can make it right.”

The plan formed as quickly as Castiel could say the words.

“Jody and the others will be returning to their cities at the end of the week. I’ll go with her, and then back to Superbia for an official update with Naomi. You said it yourself, you don’t always have the medication to deal with serious illnesses. It would be more than believable that Emma died of something.”

“You can’t just come back and announce one thing like that. You have to realize how suspicious that would look.”

“It would be part of a larger report. If you’re planning on manipulating Azazel into siding with Zachariah, I can ensure Naomi believes that was his plan all along, and I returned as a result. It would constitute an emergency.”

Dean’s eyebrows scrunched together as he thought about it.

“That might not actually be a terrible idea,” he said slowly. “You think you can pull it off?”

“Yes,” said Cas, not caring if he was right. He would try at least, and at this point that could only help. “You’re right. I knew better.”

Dean thought about it for another few seconds.

“We’ll talk about it.”

“I don’t see how you can stop me,” said Cas. “I said I would make it up to you. I intend to keep my word. Emma didn’t deserve to be the target I made her, so I’m going to fix it.”

Dean frowned at him, eyes squinting as though he didn’t quite know what to make of Cas, and he wasn’t sure whether or not that was a good thing.

“You’re nothing but fucking trouble, are you?” he muttered after a second. “We’ll talk about it. And we still aren’t good.”

“I expected that,” Castiel said, unsurprised to see that Dean was tired and showing signs of wanting to exit the conversation and likely get a few hours of sleep at least. Cas should probably get some sleep too. “I liked the poetry you gave me.”

“I didn’t- You bought it. I didn’t give you anything,” said Dean, emphasizing the distinction. “But you’re welcome or whatever. Look, I need to sleep. It’s four in the morning and I can’t deal with all of this right now.”

“Goodnight, then.”

Dean nodded and then walked off to the elevators, shoulders looking as though they were slumping under sudden weight, and Cas tried not to think about how much of that weight he put there by placing Emma in danger.

I’m going to make it right, he told himself again. He closed his eyes as he repeated it to himself as a mantra. He could make one thing right, and that would be enough for now.


	5. In Extremity (Part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some stuff to watch out for/warnings are at the end so people who want to avoid spoilers won't see them.

FEBRUARY 1, 111 A.L. - SANCTUS

Unlike when he had made the trip to Ira from Sanctus, the drive back was done in one continuous run. Castiel had woken early as he’d been asked to and accompanied Jody and Gabriel to the car they were sharing on their way back to Sanctus and Superbia, respectively. 

Castiel had not realized until he sat through a meeting in which each of the cities listed their concerns and caveats to Mary Winchester from which city each of the representatives sent in were from, excepting Jody and Kate, who had made it clear she was from Lucrum. As it turned out, Gabriel was sent from Superbia who had a thriving resistance within the city that was entirely separate from Dean’s militia, which was meant to be more of a mobile force. Castiel could see how that would be something they would have wanted to keep from him, and it made sense with his earlier observations that Sanctus seemed to be a second home to them, as well as Dean’s people’s familiarity with a great deal of the people in Ira.

Upon further questioning, he had discovered that Kali was in fact the one Superbia’s underground had appointed as their leader. The fact that he had sat more than one night unbothered in her bar came back to him, and he wondered at the fact they hadn’t just killed him to spare themselves trouble. He asked Gabriel this, and the man had grinned.

“She wouldn’t think you were worth it,” he said. “You couldn’t take her out if you pointed a gun to her head and pulled the trigger, I swear. And I’ve seen people try on more than a few occasions.”

Castiel supposed Kali must hold a certain degree of power if the state had made no efforts to shut her down. It might be worthwhile to pay her a visit before his trip to Naomi, if only to share with her anything helpful he might know about how soldiers operate.

They arrived in Sanctus late at night, and were greeted by Ellen and Bobby at Ellen’s bar. Jody pulled each of them in for a kiss and held Ellen a moment longer to assure her of Jo Harvelle’s safety before she let the private bubble surrounding the threesome break. Then she gestured towards Gabriel and Castiel and asked if they had room to put them up for the night before they drove into Superbia. Ellen and Bobby exchanged skeptical glances when they saw Castiel was there again, but nodded and asked Gabriel, Jody, and him to sit down at a table so they could eat something.

They brought out some kind of fried meat that was the best thing Castiel had eaten possibly in his entire life. Something of the distrust left Ellen’s eyes at least, after she saw him eating. He stared back at her placidly, feeling some of the weight lift from his shoulders. He had had a hand in saving this town, despite his alliance being with Naomi at the time. Of all the things he had to feel guilty about, this place wasn’t one of them.

“The boy likes to eat,” muttered Bobby, drawing Cas’ attention away from Ellen. “No, go ahead. No need to be embarrassed.”

“I wasn’t,” said Castiel, before looking back down at his meal. “Thank you for this.”

The words got caught in his throat and he didn’t quite know why. When he looked up, he was surprised to see something softening in the expressions of the people around him. Bobby criticized his choice in clothing and asked if he could possibly be warm enough, and Ellen brought him more food to eat (with Gabriel loudly asking if he could have more too, and being shot down with a look). Jody was more subtle, but she still seemed to be more sympathetic to him than before. Castiel wondered just what he’d done.

“Get some sleep, kid,” said Bobby after showing him to the room he and Gabriel would share until morning. “You too, Gabe. I don’t want Kali calling me up and threatenin’ ‘cause she thinks we didn’t take care of you.”

“Kali doesn’t care Bobby,” said Gabriel, his smile mischievous. “As long as I’m awake enough for her to sit on my-“

“Rather not hear the details, son,” said Bobby with a grimace. He shut the door, and Castiel took a moment to wonder what Gabriel was going to say before he decided he didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was getting enough sleep to prepare himself for the next day.

FEBRUARY 2, 111 A.L. - FIVE MILES OUTSIDE SANCTUS

“You want me to do what?” Gabriel shouted, turning to look at Castiel in amazement.

“Shoot me in the leg,” said Cas. “I need a reason to be coming back to Naomi, and I never reported an injury I received just before the New Year, which might raise suspicions if it’s ever discovered. Two birds, one stone.”

“I can’t promise any kind of accuracy. I nick an artery, and you’re losing a leg,” muttered Gabriel. “What if I stabbed you in the thigh instead? Would that work?”

“I suppose that would work,” Castiel agreed readily. “As long as I have an excuse to go to the hospital.”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow.

“Why’s that?”

Castiel glanced over to see genuine curiosity, but with an undercurrent of amusement that unsettled him. Gabriel never seemed to take anything quite seriously and it was keeping him off balance.

“Harriet needs medicine,” he said. “For her cancer.”

“Uh huh,” said Gabriel, considering him a moment. “Can I ask you a question or two, kiddo?”

“I suppose so,” said Cas. “I reserve the right not to answer.”

“Why are you trying so hard?” Gabriel asked as soon as Cas had responded. “I’m serious. Stealing medicine is a dumb idea, and you aren’t dumb. At least as far as I’ve been able to tell.”

“I want to do the right thing.”

Gabriel laughed in slight mockery, though it was clear he was more sad than he was vindictive. Still, it was impossible not to feel a little angry.

“I stand corrected. You’re dumb as a rock,” said Gabriel. “Right and wrong stopped mattering a long time ago. At this point, it’s us vs. them, and if you want to be moral about it you keep your head down.”

“Is that what you do?” asked Castiel. Gabriel snorted.

“Obviously not. Maybe I’m dumb too,” he said with a sigh. “But I’m not naive, and that makes a difference. I know how this is all gonna end, and it’s going to be a shitstorm. And if I was smart I know I’d keep my head out of all of it. And I tried for the longest time.”

Gabriel paused eyes glazing over for a fraction of a second, lost in memory. Then he shook himself out of it and briefly tightened his hands on the steering wheel.

“I guess one day I just said fuck it,” he finished. “I want things to get better. I’m not even sure I’m actually helping but… at least when all is said and done I tried.”

“But not too hard?” asked Castiel, causing Gabriel to smirk at him. “Not like me.”

“Nah, that’s how people like us end up dead. Or worse,” said Gabriel. “The second you’re ex-state, you’ve got a target on your back.”

That certainly caught Castiel’s attention. Gabriel outright laughed at his expression.

“Believe it or not, once upon a time I would have been on the short list to replace Naomi,” he said. “Not the final short list, of course. I wasn’t well behaved enough for that. But up there.”

“What changed?” Castiel asked. A bit of the mirth left Gabriel’s expression, and for a moment his face fell into a quiet rage.

“I realized who in my life was worth protecting,” he said. “Not that she knows it. Or needs that.”

“You mean Kali?” Castiel asked after a moment’s pause.

“She’s going to bring the city to its knees one of these days,” said Gabriel. “You ever meet someone, and you know from hello that they’re special? That most of us just aren’t made like that?”

Two names lit up in Castiel’s mind in rapid succession, and not in the order he thought they would. He shrugged noncommittally, and Gabriel took that as the admission it really was.

“That’s how it is,” said Gabriel. “Besides, I got used to gaming the system for my entertainment. Now, I’m disrupting the social order for family. Sure, one of your old soldier buddies might kill me one day, but at least I can sleep at night now.”

Castiel couldn’t think of anything to say in response, so he just nodded and took up staring out the window at the fields of crops that stretched around them. They drove a while in silence before Gabriel started up a conversation again.

“So I stab you in the leg, then you hang around for a few days outside the city, and then drive in like a bat out of hell,” he said. “That was your plan?”

“Essentially,” Castiel confirmed. Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “I have Charlie sending in updates to Naomi from a personal device she gave me, with intentionally suspicious content. They likely already suspect I’ve been discovered, but if the knife wound is too fresh, it will raise questions.”

“Well, I’ve got a policy,” said Gabriel. “If you’re gonna impale someone, you should at least buy them a drink first.”

“How many people have asked you stab them?” Castiel asked in confusion. Gabriel looked at him incredulously, then he seemed to remember something, and smacked his palm to his forehead.

“Oh. Well, that explains that,” said Gabriel. “It was a sex joke. You know-“

Gabriel lifted both hands off the wheel to demonstrate, and Cas yelled when the car started drifting toward a hole in the road. Gabriel corrected at the last moment, laughing at Castiel.

“I fail to see how that was funny.”

“I’m just now realizing why it seems like half the time you don’t have a sense of humor,” said Gabriel still snickering to himself. “Apparently you really upheld state values before going traitor.”

“I’m glad I can amuse you,” Castiel muttered. He vaguely understood the world of innuendo, and had picked up some phrases from Jo when she sometimes made excuses for her whereabouts. Otherwise, sex wasn’t a topic he liked to bring up, or ask about. He wondered now if more than once other comments had gone over his head and he had just dismissed them.

“A lot of soldiers don’t actually follow that particular rule,” said Gabriel. “As long as you don’t get caught, the state doesn’t mind.”

“They should,” said Cas. “I worked for two years under a man named Ishim when I was assigned to my third and final garrison. He used to be my commander’s second in command until a woman came to Anna begging for her help. Ishim had offered her an ultimatum and told her that he would report her home as a resistance stronghold and see to it she and her daughter died if she didn’t engage in sexual activities with him.”

Castiel hadn’t thought of Ishim in a long time. He didn’t like to, nor did anyone in his garrison mention him after his execution.

“Ishim had taken an interest in me as his eventual replacement should he be given the opportunity to lead his own garrison or replace Anna if she were ever promoted,” said Castiel flatly. “So my commander asked me to shoot him, as a test perhaps. His is the only life I’ve ever taken by direct action, and I have never regretted it. When I imagine the horror that Lily Sunder must have had, to be faced with the choice he had tried to force on her-“

Castiel shook his head.

“I never wanted anyone to feel like that. It wasn’t a difficult choice to make.”

Except where Anna was concerned, and even then feelings like that had been mired in so much confusion, he hadn’t even realized what they might have meant until recently.

“Sex isn’t bad,” said Gabriel back. Then he groaned. “Oh god, I’m giving a grown man The Talk. Look, what that guy Ishim did was fucked up. But just because people like him exist doesn’t mean that no one should ever get to have sex. It’s, y’know, all about consent.”

“Yes, and why would someone feel pressured into giving consent to the scary people with guns who patrol the streets?” Castiel asked, raising an eyebrow at Gabriel.

“The state could have set up lines of communication to report that stuff,” said Gabriel. “If they cared as much as you do about it. Rules like that aren’t in place for the citizens’ benefit. They’re there so that soldiers don’t get attached to anyone. There’s a reason the rate of defection is pretty much zero. We did it on purpose. The only family you guys have is each other.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“C’mon. You think it’s an accident that the state has you guys training together before you’re old enough to know much more than your ABCs?” asked Gabriel, his tone a little too biting for Castiel’s comfort. “We get you young, make you dependent on each other, limit any contact you can have with citizens, especially romantic contact, and then tell all of you that if you break a rule we’ll kill you. Trust me, we knew what we were doing. The defect rate is zero, because anyone who’s disillusioned enough to leave usually just swallows their gun.”

Castiel couldn’t quite look at Gabriel after that. He didn’t like at all how much sense what he’d said made, and even after having decided to switch sides, he couldn’t help but feel betrayed. He really believed that he was helping people during his time as a soldier, and now he didn’t know what to think at all.

Gabriel drove a circuitous route into Superbia, expertly avoiding state checkpoints and ditching the car on the outskirts of the city. Afterwards, he and Castiel carefully picked their way across the heavily patrolled streets to the bar where Castiel had first met Jo. They went in through a well hidden side door and then waited to be let in from a small antechamber until someone came to get them.

When the door opened, the man on the other side recognized Gabriel and easily let the two of them in without even asking questions. Castiel and Gabriel were then in a store room full of alcohol, which Gabriel started looking through until a door shut heavily and he pretended to be doing nothing of the sort. Kali stood there, looking at him like she was thoroughly unimpressed.

“What’s the soldier doing here?” she asked Gabriel with a raised eyebrow.

“I missed you, too, Kali,” said Gabriel brightly. The shadow of a smile flickered on her face before she sighed and addressed Castiel himself.

“I assume Dean sent you back here. It isn’t a good time. Invidia has been stockpiling weapons in preparation for an invasion, and Naomi is desperate to protect her chances of assuming leadership.”

“Desperate people believe more easily,” said Castiel. Kali frowned.

“Not always,” she said. “And if you think she trusts you, you’re wrong.”

Kali’s eyes left him and returned to Gabriel who offered her a smile that seemed too soft for the cynical set of his face. For a moment, there was little about him that seemed to be the mocking man Castiel had spent the last twelve hours with in a car.

“We have a lot to discuss,” Kali said after a moment. “Gabriel, have someone see to the soldier.”  
“One sec, babe,” said Gabriel. He turned to look at Cas. “Where did you want me to stab you again?”

Castiel’s hand brushed over the scar of his bullet wound and before he could blink, Gabriel had pulled out a knife and plunged it into his leg. Afterwards, Castiel shouted several obscenities, more than one of which Gabriel laughed at.

“Who taught you to swear like that?” he asked when Castiel sat himself down and took the first aid kit that Kali had another one of her people provide for him. The girl who did it couldn’t be more than fifteen, and she scrunched her eyebrows in confusion at Kali when she’d been asked.

“A friend,” Castiel said through gritted teeth. Balthazar had been foulmouthed as a child, and it was a habit Castiel had picked up and been unable to entirely train himself out of. “You might have given me a moment’s warning.”

Gabriel shrugged and clapped Castiel on the back as he started bandaging around the knife.

“Shouldn’t you disinfect that first?” he asked. Castiel shook his head.

“Wouldn’t have time if I were on the run,” he said. He took two amphetamines out of his pocket and swallowed them. They were necessary for his alibi if he was to have driven from Ira to Superbia in a straight shot. “The story is I was stabbed and drove straight here from Ira.”

Gabriel frowned at him, something like worry beginning to form on his face.

“And Dean cleared this plan?”

“Of course,” Castiel lied. In actuality he’d stolen that amphetamines off of Gordon and let Charlie in on parts of the plan with the promise he would try to get medicine for Harriet out of it. It was all in the name of being convincing, of course. If the way Gabriel was staring at him, it wasn’t normal behavior to do these types of things to oneself, and would be an excellent way to convince Naomi he was still firmly on her side.

“What if that gets infected?” asked Gabriel.

“They’ll take care of it,” said Castiel. Gabriel shrugged after a moment, acknowledging perhaps that that was true.

Castiel tried standing up, and the fifteen year old next to him helped him to his feet. Kali nodded towards stairs that led downwards and the girl started dragging him off towards them. He turned left and then took a right down a long hallway. Then she opened a door and left it open for him to go in. Castiel walked in and collapsed onto the bed and tried to ignore the pain in his leg.

FEBRUARY 3, 111 A.L. - SUPERBIA

“I’ve been such a fool, Anna,” Castiel said to the shadow in the corner.

He wasn’t sure if his hallucination was a result of the fever he now had or the sleep deprivation, but he had long since stopped caring. He was in pain, and he still had another day before his self imposed deadline came and he could get the medical treatment he needed.

“All this time, I’ve believed in something… larger than myself. The state was supposed to provide for all of us. I was supposed to be keeping people safe. But they poison the water, and they run tests on children, and they’ve done all this for what?”

The shadow didn’t answer him, just sat there judgmentally.

A knock on the door startled Castiel into reaching for his gun and pointing it at the door.

“Who is it?” he asked. Gabriel’s face appeared a moment later and Castiel put his gun back down. “Just you.”

“You’re sure jumpy,” said Gabriel. “And talking to yourself.”

“I’m talking to an angel,” said Castiel. “But she won’t talk back.”

Gabriel raised his eyebrows really high, and walked over to not so subtly empty Castiel’s gun of bullets. Cas would have protested, but a sudden flare of pain in his leg had him gasping out in pain and curling over it.

“I think you need to move your timeline up,” said Gabriel. “You leave it another day, I’m not sure you’ll be able to drive in.”

“I’m fine,” said Castiel.

“You’re hallucinating.”

“Sleep deprivation,” said Castiel. “I’ll be fine.”

“You’re a crazy son of a bitch, you know that right?” said Gabriel.

“I’ll concede to crazy.”

“And I’m having a hard time believing Dean approved this plan.”

“He might have called it idiotic and reckless when I briefly mentioned the idea of it,” said Cas. “I don’t remember him actually saying no.”

“What did he say, then?”

“Stop coming up with stupid ideas,” said Cas, which caused Gabriel to laugh. Castiel’s mind started to wander a little. “He’s so beautiful when he’s angry. Almost as much as when he smiles.”

“You’re actually fucking delirious right now, aren’t you?” asked Gabriel incredulously, sitting on a couch at the other side of the room.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Castiel. He paused a moment, head starting to spin. “I’m sorry, I’m not being rude. I just can’t figure out why there are two of you.”

Both Gabriels shook their heads in mild disapproval.

“Yep, we’re moving up your timeline,” he said. “We’ve got a car ready for you. All you have to do is get it to Naomi’s building. Think you can do that?”

“I know how to drive,” said Cas indignantly. “What if they ask questions? It hasn’t been long enough.”

“It’ll be fine,” said Gabriel. He had coalesced into one person again. Castiel decided to take that as a good sign. “You need to go to the hospital.”

“Tomorrow.”

Gabriel frowned at him for a moment and then tried a different tactic.

“But it’s already been two days,” he said. Castiel frowned, trying to grasp why that didn’t sound quite right, but not able to put his thoughts in anything resembling order.

“It has?” he asked out loud, trying to recall how much time had passed and what Gabriel had been saying just before. But his memory was failing him aside from the barest of impressions that what Gabriel was saying was not right.

“Yep. Two whole days,” Gabriel confirmed. “Do you need help climbing the stairs?”

Castiel thought about it then nodded.

“Are you sure it’s been two days?” he asked, as Gabriel helped him off the bed and towards the hallway.

“Trust me,” said Gabriel. “Have I let you down so far?”

“I suppose you did stab me when I asked,” said Castiel. “I’m not sure if trust is the word I would use.”

Gabriel didn’t seem to take that to heart, and instead let off an air of determined cheerfulness, which only furthered Castiel’s suspicions. Then again, he could also hardly walk straight without Gabriel’s assistance, and now didn’t seem to be the time to question him.

You don’t ask questions, do you? Dean accused him again in his head. Castiel waved away the memory and tried to focus on putting one foot in front of the other, ignoring the spikes of pain from his leg.

Gabriel had to shove him through the doors of the car, after having dragged him out into the side alley and onto a small street. He didn’t look very confident in Castiel’s ability to drive himself, if the way he looked up to the sky for help was any indication. Castiel thought maybe he should be asking God for help too, but wasn’t sure if the ability to drive half a mile is an important enough thing to ask.

He managed to start the car, and took it slowly, making his way closer to the center of the city, and Naomi. He barely had to drive a few blocks before he was stopped by a patrolling soldier who saw he was driving erratically.

“Do you have papers?” was the first thing out of the man’s mouth. Then his eyes dropped to Castiel’s leg and the knife that was still embedded in Cas’ thigh, and he could see a sympathetic wince. “Are you injured?”

“I need to report to Naomi,” Castiel said. “I’m almost-“

“What’s your name?” asked the man, suspicion clear on his face.

“Castiel.”

“Alright, I’m Daniel. Stay there,” he said. Daniel took out a radio and spoke in code that he couldn’t know Castiel would understand every word of. He was reporting that suspicious behavior and Castiel’s name, checking that Castiel was indeed someone who should be seeing Naomi. After about ten minutes, he had his confirmation and orders to take Castiel to the hospital.

“Move over,” he said, helping Castiel move from the driver’s seat to the passenger seat. “I’m taking you to the hospital.”

It wasn’t long after that that Castiel started seeing things again, though he did his best not to say anything. He wasn’t sure when he actually arrived at the hospital, only that suddenly he was lying in an uncomfortable cot, and a nurse was trying to pry answers out of him.

“Do you have any other injuries?” he asked. Castiel shook his head. The nurse rattled through a series of other questions about pain levels, asking about medications (and glaring at Cas in disapproval when he mentioned the amphetamines), and otherwise trying to gauge his wellbeing.

Castiel wasn’t sure his answers were at all decipherable after the first few minutes. The nurse ended up sighing in frustration and then a doctor was there. She took a look at the form the nurse had been trying to fill out sighed and then ordered him to be given sedatives. Castiel barely registered the word before he was trying to struggle away, arguing incoherently that he would be fine without them. That same fear that had reared its head when Jo and Charlie had asked for his voluntary unconsciousness was back at full force, and it took both the doctor and the nurse to hold him down and inject something into his arm.

And after that he slipped under too quickly to put up much more of a fight.

FEBRUARY 6, 111 A.L. - SUPERBIA

When Castiel woke up, the first thing he registered was just how muted the pain had become. He leaned up and lifted the blanket that covered him and then the medical gown they had dressed him in to look at the wound and see that it was hardly there anymore. New skin grew over it, angry and pink. He traced his thumb over it, idly.

He didn’t notice the other person in the room until they let out a small gasp of surprise.

“Castiel,” she said, voice betraying both wariness and excitement in equal measure. “You’re awake.”

It took Castiel a moment to place the voice, not for lack of familiarity but for lack of any expectation to hear it any time in the near future. But he turned to look and there sat-

“Hannah,” Castiel said, sitting up fully in surprise and regretting it when his head spun. He took a moment to wait for the room to still before he went on speaking. “How long have I been-?”

“Three days. Your wound was infected,” said Hannah. “I can’t believe you’re really here.”

“How did you-“

“I have to get the others,” Hannah interrupted, jumping where she stood as she remembered. “I told them I’d call when you woke up. I should call them.”

She paused a moment, as though to assure herself he was really there.

“I’ll be back,” she promised, and then rushed from the room. Castiel stared after her dumbfounded, and wondered if perhaps he had started hallucinating again.

Fifteen minutes later, he learned no, he had not been hallucinating, and when Hannah had said she needed to call the others, she meant over half of his garrison. He watched as they walked in one after the other. Uriel first, which surprised Castiel to no end, and Balthazar in a rush after him to see Castiel. Behind them came Hannah and Hael and Remiel, the latter two standing pressed close and nervous as they tended to be when they were uncertain. Afterwards followed Benjamin, Mirabel, and Susannah. Although the room was already crowded, Rachel managed to slip in behind them and at the end of the line was Samandriel. He hesitated at the door, looking more nervous than even Hael and Remi, but with an encouraging smile from Castiel he too walked in through the door.

There was hardly room for the ten of them. Castiel swallowed the sudden urge to cry, seeing them gathered around him, looking at him like they cared about him. The worst part was he knew they did, each and every one of them. Even Uriel he thought to himself, and laughed out loud at that thought, a choked thing that made Balthazar grin at him.

“Corinthia and Matthew were injured, but they said to tell you they wanted to come,” he said. “Some of the others on call for reinforcements in case of any attacks-“

“Ezekiel and Alexis didn’t want to see you. They think you were rightfully punished,” said Uriel, ignoring the glare Balthazar sent to him. “He has a right to know.”

“Did you have to tell him now?” Balthazar shot back. “Ignore him, Cassie dear. Uriel must have skipped breakfast. You know how moody he can be when he doesn’t eat.”

His eyes sparkled with the old joke, and Castiel felt dull pain beneath his ribs as he looked at the people around him. Gabriel had said the state made them close on purpose, and God how they had succeeded. These people were closer than family to him, and as long as they were out of sight, his doubts had room to flourish. But now every action he was to take seemed like another step he would be taking from the people who surrounded him.

“You’re quiet, Castiel,” Benjamin said wryly. “Are we overwhelming you?”

“I- how did you all find me?” Castiel said sheepishly, trying to hide his guilty conscience in his bashfulness. “I never expected-“

“We were assigned to Superbia shortly before Zachariah announced his intentions to illegally take the position of Lightbringer,” said Hannah. “Since we’ve been on patrol along with the four hundred other garrisons in the city and fresh recruits that replace any who need to be replaced.”

She bit her lip nervously before going on.

“Adina and Daniel were sent to us to replace-“ she cut herself off, and Castiel was glad. Because if he thought about Anna, he had to think about- “Daniel was the one who found you. When he said your name, we wouldn’t be kept away. We’ve heard that there is a chance you might rejoin us.”

She sounded so happy to say it, and Castiel could not meet her eyes.

“That decision is in Naomi’s hands,” he said evasively. He cleared his throat and looked around once more before- “Don’t hold back, I’m sure more than half of you want to scold me for something or other I’ve done since-“

Anna hung over them like the ghost Castiel was half convinced she was. The discomfort was skirted around with half laughs and glances. Hael began talking about one of her books to break the silence, and every other person in the room groaned as she recounted the life of Catherine the Great. Castiel wondered if it had been edited, like Dean frequently suggested state texts were, or if it were truly her life story.

Hael and Remi recounted misadventures they had gotten into while Hannah tutted at them in disapproval, and Castiel learned that she had been given Anna’s old position and had named Balthazar as her second in command. Balthazar shone under the attention, his inherent smugness making Castiel laugh in a way he hadn’t in so long. He had to admit though, he would have thought that Hannah would look elsewhere for a second in command. Assigning Balthazar, well… that was something Castiel would do, and likely against advice from the state to pick someone else.

Likely Uriel hadn’t taken it well, being the more suitable candidate. He did seem a little unhappy when it came up in conversation, but otherwise he was witty and biting as ever. He and Benjamin played off each other sarcastically, until some of the tension had drained from the room. Everyone chattered, and after an hour even an unusually quiet Samandriel began to join in and it felt like going home after a very long time away.

And then Hannah’s radio buzzed, and Castiel remembered himself, and the pleasantness was ripped away from him. He was never going to see any of them again after this. If he survived his plan, and God did he hope he was convincing enough to make up for his mistakes and trick Naomi, he would return to Ira and his garrison would be nothing but a memory.

Perhaps that’s what gave him the strength to do what he did next.

“We must be leaving, Castiel,” said Hannah hesitantly. “Perhaps we can visit again.”

“Wait,” Castiel said before any of them could leave. He took a deep breath before he said what had hung in the air since they had all arrived. “I- I need to know. I’m sorry, but I need to know who did it.”

Dead silence. Not a person in the room didn’t know what he was asking about.

“Cassie,” said Balthazar gently, eyes darting around the room nervously. “You don’t want to know-“

“I have nightmares about her every night,” said Castiel. “I think I deserve to know who-“

“Why?” asked Uriel. “We were ordered to kill her. We followed orders. She betrayed us, and she faced the consequences for her actions.”

“Was it you?” Castiel asked, unable to keep the tremor out of his voice. Uriel’s face, which had been friendly to him before that moment, hardened into stone.

“You aren’t the only one who lost her, Castiel. If you think we didn’t grieve-“

“I did it.”

Castiel felt something lurch in his stomach at the quiet, unassuming voice. Anyone else, he thought to himself.

Samandriel was so pale he almost looked green, and he stared at the floor as he continued.

“I didn’t know what was happening. Out of nowhere, you pointed your gun at Anna, and then you almost shot yourself, Cas,” he said, like the words agonized him. “They gave the order to take Anna out, and I didn’t think. I thought- I thought I was saving you. I thought she was doing something to you, and I- I just wanted to help. It was me. I did it.”

He swallowed heavily, and shrugged off Mirabel’s hand on his shoulder. Her glare at Cas was entirely earned as far as Castiel was concerned.

“Uriel was right,” said Castiel, voice too flat to be comforting no matter how hard he tried. “You were following orders. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Samandriel still wouldn’t look at him.

“We should go,” Hannah said into the quiet. The room emptied quickly, and Castiel wished he hadn’t asked now. He wished he could trade knowing for those last few minutes of warmth back, if they were all he was going to get.

Or, said a voice in his head. You could go back to them. Tell Naomi everything you know. You don’t have to lose them again.

It took Castiel a moment to realize that Balthazar had stayed behind the others and was trying to catch his attention.

“Cassie,” he said. Castiel focused back on him and smiled wearily. “We really are glad to see you.”

“I know,” said Castiel reaching out to grip his friend’s forearm. “Balt, you know that you were my best friend, don't you?”

Balthazar smiled thinly.

“Who else?” he asked. “The only other person who could’ve been was Anna, and anyone with eyes would have seen that was something different.”

The words were on the edge of pointing towards something they shouldn’t be, and Castiel wondered how long Balthazar had been hanging onto them. He wasn’t usually one to keep his own counsel, but he certainly looked like a weight had been lifted just by saying them aloud.

“Balthazar-“

“After what happened that day,” Balthazar interrupted casually. “I saw which way you ran off. Might have forgotten to mention it later when they asked. Just so you know where we stand.”

“I’m sorry,” said Castiel, and he could see the way any lingering happiness slowly drained from Balthazar. Just those two words were enough that Balthazar knew he had no intention of rejoining their garrison. Castiel doubted it would take him long after this to guess why, and knew that Balthazar still wouldn’t turn on him for it. The state may have thought keeping soldiers close was a great strength in keeping them obedient, but Castiel could see now that if even one soldier defected, it was also a great weakness.

“Until next time, then,” Balthazar said. It was a little too flippant to be anything but a goodbye, and if it wasn’t for the grief under the words, Castiel might have thought Balthazar was angry with him. He left with only one look back, and a half serious salute and Castiel took to staring at the ceiling and hoping they didn’t visit again. He wasn’t sure he had the strength to make the right choice twice.

FEBRUARY 4, 111 A.L. - SUPERBIA

Castiel was cleared the day after he had woken up to leave the hospital and informed he would be reporting to Naomi as soon as possible and again in two days when he had had time to write up pertinent information. This of course meant that as soon as he was cleared to go, he had a very limited timeline to steal the medicine that Harriet needed for her cancer.

Castiel had snuck out of his room the night before to look at a map of the hospital and figure out where supply rooms were. He vaguely knew what the devices doctors used to treat cancer looked like from a time when Alexis from his garrison had discovered she had the disease, and a kit to take care of her had been sent to Anna from the nearest hospital. Castiel had kept far away from any treatments she received, and still remembered that it had been far from a painless process for Alexis. But in the end, she was cured, and the kit had been sent back.

The devices themselves could be reused, but they required radioactive materials that the state had a complete monopoly on. Considering hospitals were more well guarded than any other building accepting the one where the mayor worked, it wasn't surprising that no one working for Dean or Mary or any of the other resistance leaders had managed to steal them.

Castiel had several things going in his favor, the first of which was that he was actually already in the hospital, and the second of which was that he had spent several days unconscious and could claim disorientation if he was caught. Then again, as long as he walked like he knew where he was going, he doubted he’d be questioned as he wandered the hallways. The doctors and nurses would be too busy dealing with their patients to pay him much attention as long as he was careful.

He walked down the halls he’d memorized casually, but with confidence. No one stopped to ask him where he was going, and Castiel managed to find the storage room he was looking for. He briefly made sure no one was looking before going inside and searching for a similar kit to what had been sent to Anna. It took too long for Castiel’s liking to locate the kits and confirm that what he had was what he thought it was. The kit was too bulky for Castiel to easily hide under the new clothes the hospital had provided for him, and he spent five minutes thinking up an inconspicuous way to leave out a window. When he had finally settled on the best way to do this, he walked towards the door only to knock his foot against an open box that hadn’t been pushed under the shelf the entire way.

He startled, hoping no one had heard the noise, and then looked down to see the box was marked “Lost and Found” and inside it were a variety of objects including watches, phones, discarded clothes, accessories, wallets, and more. Castiel took special interest in a large tan coat he spotted near the top of the pile and pulled it out to find it sufficiently loose. After that, all he had to do was duct tape the kit to his shirt so it was resting against his lower back, and then pull the coat over it.

He walked out of the hospital and made his way to Naomi without anyone suspecting a thing.

Ambriel didn’t even let him past the desk when he arrived to “check in” as it had been put to him. Instead she said that Naomi would see him as soon as he had typed up his report and not to bother her. Ambriel added for herself that she hoped his leg was doing better, and Castiel assured her it was.

Castiel used the same room that had been set aside for him to sleep and work in as the other times he had reported back to Naomi. He had been so thoroughly drilled in what exactly to include in the report he gave to Naomi by Mary Winchester (with exception of the brief mention of the death of Emma, which neither Dean nor Castiel had not mentioned in the strategy meetings as a motivation for going back) that Castiel hardly had to think while typing out his report. It was a mix of true and false information, and meant to play into a narrative that would hopefully drive a wedge between Naomi and Azazel. Multiple mentions of overheard intelligence reports of Azazel considering offers from Zachariah were included alongside similar reports that he was considering offers from Naomi.

The resistance was characterized to seem weaker than they actually were, and Castiel had been instructed to underestimate their numbers and mischaracterize their motivations. Instead of listing encouraging civil war between the cities as a method of weakening them as the current main goal of the resistance, Castiel implied that overthrowing Ira was the central focus of Mary Winchester. He did accurately account for Dean’s presence in Ira as support for forces already there, and stayed consistent with other reports he had already given about him and his militia before.

It took much less time than the two days Castiel had been provided, and Cas used the extra time to decide what he was going to do with the kit he had stolen. It was a great risk to sit in front of Naomi with it taped to his back, but he had no way to get in contact with Gabriel that was safe before he made a run for it after giving the report to Naomi and, if she held up her side of the deal, assigned back to his garrison. He briefly considered asking Balthazar to hold onto it and return it to him after he ran, but he didn’t want to place his friend in any more danger than he already had.

Besides, it would be… satisfying in a way. To do something so defiant within five feet of Naomi and with the woman none the wiser. And he had grown rather fond of the oversized tan coat in a short amount of time. It made him look smaller. Less dangerous.

In any case, it wasn’t like he had any better solutions at the moment anyway.

FEBRUARY 5, 111 A.L. - SUPERBIA

As he made his way from his room to the office Naomi used, Castiel didn’t expect to be attacked in any way. If Naomi wanted to kill him, she wouldn't be subtle about it. For that reason, Castiel was taken completely by surprise when someone yanked at his collar and covered his mouth to keep him from shouting.

He would have defended himself within moments if he hadn’t turned to see the person who had done this was Samandriel, who dropped his hand as soon as Castiel recognized him. He spoke quickly, and Castiel struggled to keep up.

“I know you’re angry, and I’m not asking for forgiveness,” said Samandriel immediately. “But I saw Balthazar’s expression when he left, like you had told him- Castiel, are you working for the resistance?”

Castiel felt himself freeze.

“Why would you say that?” he said. Perhaps it was the wrong thing to say, because Samandriel took it as a confirmation.

“I want to go with you,” said Samandriel wide eyed and imploring. “I want to help-“

“You have it backwards, Samandriel,” Castiel said, not knowing if this was a trick or genuine. Samandriel was the last one he would expect to try to ferret out Castiel’s loyalties, but if he was… “I’m acting as a spy on the behalf of Naomi. Only Naomi.”

“Castiel,” said Samandriel slowly. “You can’t mean that. What she’s doing is wrong. We’re supposed to serve the state, not a city and not a person or a crusade for power. Besides, the night Anna died… I’ve been thinking and thinking about it and I don’t understand why if the resistance had a facility like that we didn’t stop them sooner. Those children had been there for years. It had to be a state building, there’s no other explanation.”

All doubt left Castiel then. Samandriel was deadly serious, and he meant to act on his convictions. He had a choice to make now. He could confess to Samandriel and make a run for it with him back to Ira. It would mean his flight would be noticed much more quickly than if he fled alone.

Or he could lie. Samandriel felt guilty over Anna’s death, likely as guilty as Castiel did. He had put together what had happened much more effectively than Castiel had, and had decided what side he wanted to be on. But that also meant he had decided to join the side that he would most likely die on. Even if they weren’t caught immediately, and Castiel already had such low hopes for his own escape that adding another variable to it made the odds vanishingly small, Samandriel would be as much a target as Castiel was when Naomi realized what had happened.

Somehow, Castiel doubted Azazel would have an issue sending soldiers to kill the both of them, even if he still wasn’t sure whether he wanted to take Naomi’s side in the war. He wouldn’t even have to risk attacking the resistance outright. Just send the right whispers to the right places, and Castiel knew more than one person that would tie him up and hand him over for slaughter. Gordon would do something like that with a grin on his face.

“You’re making a mistake,” said Castiel slowly to Samandriel. “Naomi is the next Lightbringer, and she has every right to defend her title. And what the state does must be right, and it’s not our duty to question why.”

Samandriel frowned at him, looking lost for words.

“You- you can’t mean that,” he said, an edge of terror creeping into his words. “Cas-“

“I won’t tell anyone what you said,” Castiel reassured him instantly, realizing just how horrifying it must be for Samandriel to reveal his thoughts like this only to realize the other person might very well use them against him. “But your place is working under Hannah in our garrison. Don’t forget that.”

Samandriel’s face shut down at those words, and he looked at Castiel like he’d been betrayed. It didn’t take long to realize his words would have the opposite effect they were intended to.

“Of course,” lied Samandriel, eyes now glued to the floor. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Before Castiel could say another word, Samandriel walked off, shoulders square. Castiel tried to assure himself that Samandriel had a better shot of making it on his own if he bided his time and made a run for it without Castiel. Alternatively, perhaps Samandriel would rethink his theories.

Castiel was lost in thought as he made his way up to Naomi’s office. Ambriel waved him past, hardly looking up from her work. So that meant Naomi was waiting for him. He doubted that was good.

The moment he stepped in the room he knew something was wrong. For one, Naomi wasn’t alone, and the three men surrounding her were well armed, tall, and muscular. Castiel swallowed and didn’t bother trying not to look intimidated. If he kept his face blank that meant he had something to hide, he thought to himself.

“I wrote up my report,” Castiel said, placing it on Naomi’s desk. “Would you like me to discuss it in front of-“

“Take a seat, Castiel,” said Naomi, gesturing towards the chair as she picked up his report and scanned it. She wouldn’t notice Emma’s death until later when she read through it again. By then, Castiel would be long gone and Naomi would likely assume he had run away by himself again. “What a hideous coat.”

Castiel looked down.

“It’s warm,” said Castiel as he sat down in front of her. He held his breath, hoping she wouldn’t ask him to take it off. She wrinkled her nose in distaste, but went back to skimming the report. When she was done, she set the papers down and looked at him.

“You realize what this means, don’t you?” she said.

“I gather information, ma’am,” said Castiel. “I don’t pretend to understand the implications of all of it.”

“It means that Azazel is going to be asking for help putting down the resistance,” she said. “And he is going to realize that Zachariah is closer to Ira than I am.”

“I see,” said Castiel. Naomi narrowed her eyes at him.

“Which is why,” she said slowly. “I have one last thing to ask of you, Castiel.”

“That sounds ominous,” said Castiel. “I don’t know if anyone informed you of this, but I was chased away from Ira.”

Castiel’s hand twitched towards his recently healed leg.

“I’m aware,” said Naomi with an insincere smile. “I have faith in you to be resourceful however.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“I think you can start by killing Dean Winchester, and after that’s done… whoever else you think would hurt their chances,” said Naomi. Castiel stared back at her and didn’t have to feign quite how his stomach dropped. He had no intention of doing it, but he still couldn’t believe she had the gall to ask him that, as though she hadn’t promised him redemption.

“That’s a suicide mission,” he said flatly. She continued to smile thinly at him.

“Yes, well. I was planning on holding up my end of the deal and letting you run off into your own personal sunset,” she said. “And then I overheard a conversation you had with one of the members of your old garrison. Samandriel, I believe his name was?”

“Was?” Castiel asked, standing up instantly. “Naomi-“

“Lucky I made sure to have the clothes the hospital gave you bugged,” she said with a sigh. “You’re a quiet man, Castiel. I thought it might have gone to waste, listening in on your life. And until twenty minutes ago it was.”

Castiel swallowed.

“What did you do to him?” he asked. Naomi raised an eyebrow and without a thought Castiel lunged for her, infuriated by her cavalier response to having another one of his friends killed under her orders.

He didn’t even touch her. Two of the soldiers that had been standing behind her grabbed either of his arms and forced him into sitting back down on the chair in front of her. From there, he could only glare as she looked at him.

“You believe in the state and what it stands for, that much I know,” said Naomi. “But you don’t believe in me. That was already an issue I have… subtly medicated against.”

“What did you do to Samandriel?” repeated Castiel. Naomi sighed.

“He was shot between the eyes as soon as he left this building. He wasn’t just planning desertion, he was planning mutiny,” she said. “We don’t let soldiers defect, Castiel. Even you, as dull witted as you are, know that.”

Castiel slumped over as far as he could while being restrained, and Naomi leaned forward in an attempt to catch his eye.

“You’ve been loyal,” she said, her tone suggesting she isn’t sure that’s quite the right way to put it. “To the state. Always to the state, though. I listened to your conversation with Samandriel several times, and it occurred to me he thought you were lying about something. Considering the resistance has summarily rejected you, I can’t help but think you’ve managed to be disloyal to me somehow.”

“I’ve done everything you asked,” said Castiel.

“Perhaps you think Zachariah would be the better Lightbringer,” Naomi continued calmly. Castiel couldn’t help looking up then in hopeless confusion at the direction she was taking the conversation. “You made contact with him at one point, and now he’s stirring up the beginnings of a war. It wasn’t a difficult connection to make. You’re loyal to the state Castiel, before even your garrison I think.”

Once maybe, but not anymore. Castiel didn’t voice this out loud, not doing a thing to course correct Naomi. He might be killed for his supposed betrayal of her, but she still wouldn’t question that Emma was dead. That would have to be enough, Castiel supposed, thinking guiltily of the kit taped to his back that would never reach Harriet if he were to die now.

“But you hate me,” said Naomi, casually. “From the moment you met me, you hated me. You’ll do what I say if it keeps the state together, but if there was a chance anyone else could do the same… I think you would jump ship rather quickly.”

Naomi nodded to the third soldier who took out a small case and began assembling some kind of injection. Castiel began struggling, thinking that either it was lethal or worse, she was going to knock him unconscious and he would end up in a prison. The thought of being caged put him in a panic, and he began to hyperventilate as the third soldier approached him. The other two did their best to hold him still, and they managed long enough for one of his sleeves of his coat to be harshly pulled up, and the needle to pierce his skin.

“Luckily, I don’t need your loyalty anymore,” said Naomi. “I just need you take out as much of the resistance as you can before they kill you. And there are so many ways we’ve found to compel people to do as we wish.”

It felt how Castiel might imagine ice spreading through his veins. It wasn’t cold so much as numbing. All of his senses dulled, and Naomi’s voice shone through the gloom as a singular beacon of light. Every word she said pressed itself into his mind, and his own thoughts fell aside, meaningless.

It was a strangely peaceful feeling. Every last worry and scrap of guilt suddenly became unimportant and slid off his shoulders like rainwater.

“You’re going to kill Dean Winchester,” said Naomi clearly to him. “And then you will annihilate as much of the resistance as you can until you’re taken out. Do we have an understanding Castiel?”

“Yes.”

FEBRUARY 6, 111 A.L. - CAMP CASSANDRA

Castiel had determined that it would be against his interests to make the drive back to Ira all at once, like he had pretended to when returning to Superbia. After that, he had remembered that there was a good stopping point that was off state radar (in case a garrison stopped him and slowed down his mission) and wouldn’t currently be occupied by resistance forces that were camped out in Ira. So off to Camp Cassandra he had gone.

It was more of a field than a camp without all of the tents, he thought to himself when he arrived. It wasn’t like Camp Jefferson Starship, which had built in infrastructure and permanent buildings. Castiel vaguely wondered exactly where CJS actually was, since he had never been able to figure out the direct route to it, only that it was within a reasonable distance of Superbia. He supposed it didn’t matter.

After eating a dinner substantial enough that he wouldn’t be affected by hunger the next day, Castiel lowered the seat of the car Naomi had provided for him and did his best to sleep.

*************

The building in front of them was already crawling with soldiers, and Castiel looked to Anna to confirm they were going to follow the rest in. She nodded and he followed her, the rest of his garrison trailing behind them. They had just entered the building when the order came through.

“The children have been determined to be a threat to the state,” said a voice over the line. “All garrisons are ordered to neutralize the threat.”

Anna’s expression flattened into violent distaste, and she lifted her radio to her lips.

“We aren’t going to kill children,” she said. Her eyes flickered across the room like she was looking for something, and she subtly nodded to someone else in the room who wasn't from their garrison. She ran off quickly, and Anna looked satisfied. There was shouting from elsewhere, and Castiel had forgotten that that had happened. He had always been so focused on what happened next.

In Castiel’s ear piece came an order, loud and clear.

“Anael has defied state orders,” said the voice, sounding just this side of frantic as the yelling in the building got louder, a mixture of children’s and adults. “Execute her immediately.”

Without thinking, Castiel lifted his gun and turned off the safety, pointing it at Anna. Her expression went from shock to betrayal to acceptance so quickly he wondered how he had managed to identify the three separate emotions. Anna closed her eyes, and Castiel vaguely remembered what had happened next. What always happened next.

Then, instead of turning the gun on himself, he shot Anna in the stomach.

The scenery around him changed wildly, and he was in the garden of his other recurring nightmares and Anna was looking up at him from the ground, clutching her stomach. Desperation colored her features. Castiel looked down at her coolly, wondering why these dreams had ever bothered him so much.

“Cas,” Anna said. “You don’t want to do this. You know you don’t want to do this. You have to fight back.”

Castiel lowered the gun slightly, and Anna seemed to take heart at that.

“You promised me you would keep fighting,” she reminded him. “Fight this.”

Castiel lifted the gun again and shot her between the eyes. The wind whistled through the tree Anna lay under, still and silent and dead.

*************

FEBRUARY 7, 111 A.L. - IRA

It was early evening when Castiel arrived in Ira. He brushed aside hellos from the people he knew and only stopped to ask a passing Ash if he happened to know where Dean was. Ash smirked at him and indicated the general direction he should go in, saying he’d last seen him heading towards the conference rooms that Mary used for strategy meetings (he also indicated he was skipping said meeting, but Castiel quickly discarded that information as irrelevant). As soon as Castiel heard this he was walking again, planning how best to fulfill his orders.

When he walked into a hallway where a meeting had clearly just ended, Castiel calculated his odds of being able to kill Dean immediately. Surrounded by his captains and his mother’s most trusted advisors seemed a poor place to put the plan into action, so Castiel walked directly up to Dean who was laughing at something Charlie had said. Neither seemed to realize he was there until he was directly in front of them.

“Dean,” he said, to catch the man’s attention. To Castiel’s surprise, Dean startled much more than seemed to be called for and immediately took a step back from Castiel. It was odd behavior, he was fairly certain. He couldn’t remember Dean acting like that before.

Charlie seemed to think it was funny rather than out of character, so Castiel supposed he was missing something.

“I need to speak with you privately,” said Castiel.

“Did everything go okay, with…” Dean trailed off, seeing Charlie’s eager expression and just how obviously she was eavesdropping. “Yeah, sure. Privately.”

Dean started walking to an empty room a little down the hall and Castiel followed closely behind him, planning how best to prevent Dean from fighting back before Castiel could draw his gun. Although everyone else seemed to be watching them walk away, no one made a move to follow, which worked well with Castiel’s plan.

“I think I know what this is about,” said Dean once they were out of earshot, but before they had made it entirely past the door. “Gabriel called to tell me that you’re an idiot with stupid plans. Then he might’ve mentioned some other stuff you said while you were out of it.”

The door shut behind them with a click.

“Look, Cas, it’s not that I’m not flattered. Or… y’know interested,” said Dean, clearing his throat uncomfortably. “But I’ve been, uh, trying to get better about not doing whole casual hook ups thing anymore, okay? I just don’t want you to think-“

Dean was cut off when Castiel turned around from shutting the door to punch him in the stomach. He doubled over in pain, trying to suck in air while Castiel took out his gun. A moment later it was knocked from his hand as Dean looked up, saw what was happening and swept Castiel's legs out from under him. Castiel let out a small shout of pain as the kit he had forgotten was still taped to his back was sharply pressed against his spine.

Castiel recovered in time to see the gun next to the wall and the fact that Dean had also seen where it went. Both of them reached for it, with Castiel yanking back Dean’s foot to drop him to the ground and using the momentum to get to the gun first. Unfortunately, Dean could reach farther than he could, and he quickly took the ammunition out of the gun before kicking Castiel in the side.

The two of them were back on their feet the next moment, and Castiel could see that Dean was about to yell for help, so he tackled him to knock the air out of his lungs. Dean was stunned enough from his head hitting the wall so hard (he might even have a concussion, Castiel remarked to himself in a detached sort of way) that he didn’t do anything to stop Cas from taking the gun he knew Dean would have tucked into the back of his jeans, turning off the safety and pressing it to Dean's forehead.

Castiel pause there, both of them breathing hard, and Dean going cross eyes trying to keep the gun in view. Then his eyes shifted and suddenly he was looking Castiel straight on, every part of his expression saying only one thing: I dare you.

It was such an insignificant detail that stopped Castiel from pulling the trigger immediately. It was something he was sure that he had registered, if only subconsciously, but never put much thought to and that was the fact that Dean Winchester’s eyes were green. Specifically the green of sunlight through leaves. The strange realization brought Castiel’s dream of killing Anna crashing back into his thoughts, along with it a feeling of deep dread.

“Close your eyes,” said Castiel. When Dean didn’t react he shoved harder against his chest and repeated himself. “Close your eyes.”

“No,” said Dean, still staring him down. “Don’t kid yourself this anything but an execution. I’m not going to make it easier on you. You have a choice right now. Make it.”

Castiel stared down at him, waiting for anything. Some sign that this was a trick and Dean was going to make a play for his life. Ask for a chance to say goodbye to Emma or call for help or even just knock Castiel to the ground while he hesitated and take his gun back. Dean didn’t do any of those things. He stood statue still and Castiel realized it was because Dean knew instinctively something Castiel had only just realized.

Castiel couldn’t kill him.

It was like holding his breath, resisting the urge to go through with his mission. Or rather, it was like drowning, because taking a breath was less than an option. His hand fell to his side, and he dropped the gun. He wasn’t surprised when he was once again knocked to the ground and Dean yelled for help while restraining Castiel.

The urge to hit back was strong, encouraged by both self preservation and the overwhelming instinct Naomi had put in him to kill Dean. Resisting was causing his muscles to spasm, and pain built behind his eyes until he was practically sobbing, his eyes closed against light that was suddenly to bright for them.

“What the hell just happened?” asked Sam Winchester after the door exploded open, something Castiel only knew by the sound of the door hitting hard against the wall.

“Don’t shoot him,” said Dean loudly. Castiel supposed whoever had been about to shoot him must have followed orders, because he didn’t hear a shot. A moment later, Dean spoke again, much softer this time. “Jesus, Cas. What the fuck did they do to you?”

There was no way to even think about answering through the intense pain Castiel was going through, and as it ratcheted ever higher he felt himself begin to lose consciousness. Within seconds, everything was once again peacefully blank.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: mild violence, drugs that rob people of their will (used against Castiel), drug use


	6. In Extremity (Part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See end notes for warnings.

FEBRUARY 10, 111 A.L. - IRA

It was too bright when Castiel tried to open his eyes. It took a great deal of blinking before he could open his eyes, and as he started to wake, he felt bile rising in his throat. He tried to spit it out, and then felt hands on him turning him onto his side and placing a pan under his mouth. Something was tugging uncomfortably at his wrists, but he was too sick to care.

Once he was done vomiting, Cas was rolled carefully back into place, and he looked up and recognized Dr. Newman standing over him and taking his pulse. An IV was attached to one of his arms, and every inch of him hurt.

“Dr. Newman,” Cas managed, knowing his voice was coming out as a garbled mess.

“Good, you can talk,” said Dr. Newman sounding relieved. “I’m going to need to ask you some questions.”

Cas nodded, and tried to lift his arm to scratch an itch on his nose only to once again tug against something. He looked down to see he was handcuffed to what looked to be a cot. He frowned up at Dr. Newman.

“You can’t seriously think I’m going to let you out of those,” said Dr. Newman, almost chiding. “First of all, I need to know as much as you can tell me about whatever it is Naomi gave you. Did she say anything that can help us identify-“

“I don’t remember it that well,” said Castiel, closing his eyes and trying to access his memories. “Some sort of injection and then-“

Whatever Naomi had done to him still had it’s claws in his mind because it hurt touch anything to do with her command to him.

“Cas, I need you to breathe,” said Dr. Newman. He led him through some breathing exercises, none of which helped. “Okay, Castiel, is there anything else you remember?”

“It’s not the first time… she said she was “medicating” my loyalties,” said Castiel. “I don’t know how, I would have noticed-“

“Any objects that made contact with your bare skin when you reported into her,” Dr. Newman mused to himself. Not a question, Castiel said to himself and starting to zone out. “With verbal reinforcement that would-“

“I didn’t hurt anyone?” Castiel asked through gritted teeth. Dr. Newman shook his head. Castiel looked down at his wrists. “You can’t let me out of these. I still want to- I have to-“

Dr. Newman nodded, as though he had been expecting that. He patted Castiel gently on the arm and then sat on the chair next to him, face careful.

“It’s going to get worse before it gets better,” said Dr. Newman. “It’s going to get a lot worse. I remember watching Jessica and Sam go through detox, and with them we had some idea what we were dealing with. We had Cordelia helping come up with drugs to ween them off their dependence. With you… we just don’t know what Naomi gave you.”

“How much worse?” asked Cas.

“I was contemplating a medically induced coma,” admitted Dr. Newman. “To spare you the pain.”

“No.”

“Castiel-“

“I said no,” said Castiel more fiercely. “Nothing that’ll knock me out.”

Dr. Newman frowned, and his eyes fell to where Cas’ fists were in clenched and he was subtly pulling against his wrist restraints. His eyes widened.

“Cas, you’re being paranoid,” said Dr. Newman. “No one here is going to hurt you.”

Paranoia had, by and large, kept Castiel alive up to this point and he wasn’t going to stop now. So he shook his head again, and Dr. Newman sighed.

“Please don’t,” Castiel said, staring right at him. “Promise you won’t do that, no matter how bad it gets.”

“I won’t make promises I can’t keep,” said Dr. Newman. “But if I don’t deem it a medical necessity… I’ll keep you off general anesthetics.”

“Thank you.”

“Get through the next few weeks, then thank me,” muttered Dr. Newman. “I need to go and radio into Dean that you woke up.”

“Okay,” said Castiel tiredly. His eyes were already getting heavy and he wondered momentarily if the doctor had already broken his promise and done something to put him under. “I’m… so… tired.”

Dr. Newman started to say something to him, but Castiel was asleep before he could catch the words.

FEBRUARY 12, 111 A.L. - IRA

The next time Castiel woke up, it was to see Jo sitting in the chair next to his bed with her feet up on his cot. She looked tired, deep circles under her eyes. Cas squinted at her, trying to get her face into focus and not quite managing.

“You’re awake,” she realized about a minute later, when she noticed his eyes were open. “Or you’re creepily sleeping with you’re eyes open.”

“I think I’m awake,” said Castiel, though the words came out garbled. His mouth was too dry. “You’re alive?”

Jo frowned at him.

“Yes, Cas. I’m alive.”

“Then I’m probably awake,” said Castiel congratulating himself on his logic. Jo meanwhile was slowly going from relief to concern at seeing him conscious. It ripped the cover off the well of guilt he’d spent so long ignoring. “You don’t know. You wouldn’t be so worried if you knew.”

“Cas, everyone knows you tried to kill Dean,” said Jo. “It doesn’t count. You wouldn’t have done it if you were in your right mind. We all know that. Well, not Gordon, but his head’s shoved so far up his ass that-”

“No, not that,” said Castiel, unable to help himself. His thoughts were scrambled, and he knew vaguely he wasn’t supposed to tell Jo just what he’d done wrong. He’d been told not to, after all, but it suddenly seemed so important she know. Nothing was in any sort of order and- “Jo, you don’t know-“

“And I don’t care,” said Jo instantly. “Whatever Naomi made you do, I don’t care. You’re my best friend and the only person in this entire fucking place who ever looked at me and took me seriously. I don’t want you to ruin that. So whatever you’re feeling guilty about… just let it go. Okay?”

“I’m a traitor,” Castiel said, because he had to say it out loud. Jo had to understand- “You can’t trust someone like me. You don’t know-“

“But you’re our traitor, right?” asked Jo, cutting him off his train of thought once again. “Selma, and me, and Doc, and Dean, and Charlie, and Sam and all the rest of us. You’re ours.”

“Wholly,” Castiel said, despite how ill it made him to say it, the lingering effects of the drug Naomi had made him still affecting his thoughts, but slowly being replaced by the symptoms of withdrawal. “I would do anything to make up for-“

“Then none of the rest of it matters,” said Jo. “We take care of our own. Which means we’re going to take care of you, whether you like it or not.”

Castiel was quiet then, and Jo sat back in her chair and took a deep breath before forcing a smile at him. He must look terrible, Castiel thought to himself, if the way she was looking at him was anything to go by. He should ask Dr. Newman for a mirror when Jo left.

“We’ve been taking shifts looking out for you,” said Jo, after the two of them had sat in silence for a while. “Y’know, me, Charlie, Jess, Sam, Dean, Boris-“

“Boris?” Castiel asked in disbelief. Jo nodded. “Boris hates me.”

“Harriet’s going to make it,” she said. Castiel blinked in confusion at her until he remembered. He never had removed the med kit he’d taped to his back, so they must have found it whenever they’d undressed him and put him into the disposable clothes he was wearing now. “Boris would kill Crookshanks and face the full force of Charlie’s wrath if you asked. He was practically in tears yesterday when he was on his shift watching you.”

“Boris?” Castiel repeated in disbelief. Jo smirked at him.

“I mean, he was a little drunk too,” she conceded. “But yeah. When Gabriel called and told us what you were trying to do, we all thought you were an idiot. And hey, can’t argue with those results. But, uh…”

Jo slapped his leg lightly where the scar was and Castiel flinched. She tilted her head with a slight glare.

“Maybe stop making bodily harm the center of all your plans.”

“I never planned for you to shoot me,” said Castiel, trying to swat her hand away only to realize he couldn’t reach it with his handcuffs. He frowned at them. “That’s going to get annoying fast.”

“Probably,” Jo agreed. “Oh, by the way, since you’re feeling better and everything… I was just wondering…?”

Castiel looked up at her, not liking just how amused she looked, over the underlying worry.

“Go on,” he prompted cautiously. Jo smirked.

“You didn’t actually call Dean pretty while you were high on amphetamines, did you?” asked Jo. “Gabriel made that up right?”

Oh God.

“That… sounds like something Gabriel would do,” said Castiel. Jo raised an eyebrow. “It didn’t happen, Jo.”

“Hmm,” said Jo, not believing a word. “If that’s the case, I wonder where Gabriel got the idea to include in his report that if Dean didn’t let you down easy he was going to castrate him. Side note, when did you and Gabe become friends?”

“He just feels guilty,” said Castiel, letting a note of bitterness creep in as he remembered Gabriel’s words. We did it on purpose. Every moment of internal torture over the past few months all being by the design of the state had something very like hatred bubbling inside him. Gabriel had had a hand in that. “We are the farthest thing from friends.”

Then another thought struck Cas.

“How many people heard that report?” he asked, closing his eyes and trying to prepare himself for the answer. Jo cleared her throat.

“Just, uh… Mary Winchester, Billie Barnes, Charlie and Ash, Dean, Sam, Benny, Tamara, Gordon-“

“If I don’t die from detox, I’m going back to Superbia to murder him,” Castiel muttered darkly.

“I wouldn’t joke about that, considering Dean’s only alive because you have the hots for him,” said Jo flippantly, ignoring Cas’ pointed glare. “And don’t joke about the other thing either.”

“I’m not joking. Dr. Newman didn’t have to spell it out for me to realize there might not be a way back from whatever Naomi did to me,” said Cas. “I’m getting a headache just talking to you and not trying to kill you. It’s not as bad, but as soon as the urge fades, the withdrawal symptoms are going to start.”

“Yeah, I remember from when Sam and Jess had to detox,” said Jo. Where before she’d been going for good humored, now there was only the kind of grim solemnity that comes from bad memories. “Sam and the twins have been doing their best to prepare. You’re going to make it through.”

“Right.”

“And who knows?” said Jo, an attempt at optimism back in her voice. “Maybe it won’t be so bad?”

FEBRUARY 14, 111 A.L. - IRA

Cas felt like someone was stabbing him in the gut. He was sweating profusely and he couldn’t stop the intense panic that sparked every time he remembered he was restrained and he knew he was hyperventilating, but he couldn’t make himself stop.

He was vaguely aware of Dr. Newman and Jo rolling him over whenever his stomach rebelled and he puked up bile, because there was no food for him to expel. Just an IV in his arm that he had tried more than once to tear out, because he was convinced that Dr. Newman was poisoning him.

He might have yelled that several times. It was hard to keep track of the passing minutes, because sometimes the pain made time pass by so slowly Castiel was half convinced years had passed, and sometimes he knew he lost time to it, unable to keep quite conscious no matter how hard he fought.

Jess and Cordy were there sometimes, and Sam too. They took blood from him, and Jess swabbed the inside of his cheek and he didn’t bite her because he remembered she was always nice to him and she probably wouldn’t poison him, right?

Cordy and Sam he wasn’t as sure.

It must have become obvious pretty quickly that he would only allow certain people to touch him without outright going into a fit. Those people were Jess, Selma, Jo and…

“Hey there,” said Dean as he settled into the chair next to Cas’ bed, looking apprehensive. “Jo said you were having a hard time.”

Dean.

“You’re okay,” said Cas, practically babbling. “I’m so sorry, Dean. I was in so much pain. I didn’t want to fight it. I shot Anna and I just wanted it all to be over.”

“You didn’t shoot Anna. Trust me, Charlie hacked into Superbia’s system and I read the incident reports when Jo first suggested we take you in,” said Dean, sounding wary. “Gabe said you were hallucinating after you took those pills in Superbia. Selma told me about all those bad dreams you’ve been having and then Sam put together a theory that you’ve been having a strong mental reaction to whatever Naomi’s been putting into your system. The subconscious rebels, or something. I don’t know, I didn’t study this shit. You’ve been seeing Anna all this time, ‘cause Naomi fucked up your system and I’m guessing she was your way of fighting back.”

The words roll over Cas, and he can’t make sense of any of them, so he doesn’t try.

“Samandriel shot Anna first,” he said instead, because he had to be understood. “And then Naomi killed him for trying to desert for the resistance. It was my fault. I should have checked my clothes. Bugs.”

Dean frowned.

“She bugged you?” he questioned, but Castiel was already on a roll, and wasn’t stopping now.

“Then the suicide mission,” said Cas. “All these blankets over my eyes and I just didn’t want to feel like this anymore. So I shot Anna, and then I tried to shoot you. But I couldn’t. You knew I couldn’t.”

Cas stared at Dean, watching his face harden at Cas’ last words. Not angrily, just a slight twitch of the muscles to make his face unreadable, and Cas deliriously tried to reach out to touch it, and his wrist pulled tight against the handcuffs again.

Dean winced at the sound and looked down before frowning.

“Jesus, you’re wrists are fucked up,” he said with a low whistle. “I’ll tell Dr. Newman to take a look at that. Let me go get-“

“No!” Cas yelled. Dean practically jumped at the sudden volume. “Don’t leave. If you leave, he might come back and make me sleep. I don’t want to fall asleep. All they do is stare at me, Dean. It’s my fault, but if I’m awake I don’t have to remember. Please don’t-“

“Dr. Newman isn’t giving you anything to make you sleep,” said Dean. “That’s just your paranoia talking. Believe it or not, you can’t stay awake all the time.”

“Please,” Cas repeated, fear seizing every part of him. He couldn’t face his dreams. Not now and not ever if he had anything to say about it. “Dean-“

“Alright, just… just shut up, alright?” said Dean, stress leaking into his voice. “You’re not making any damn sense, and it’s scaring me, okay?”

“I’m sorry,” said Castiel, staring up at the ceiling now. “Can you read me something?”

“I thought that was against the rules of the state?” Dean said obviously trying to tease him. Get back on solid footing.

“Fuck every last one of them,” said Castiel through gritted. “I give everything for them and this is what I get? To count my dead and keep counting until my sanity slips through my fingers? Fuck Naomi and fuck Anna and fuck Gabriel and Ambriel and every last asshole that ever-“

“Yeah, I’ll read to you,” Dean interrupted, just staring at him like he was a bomb about to go off.

“And fuck you, too, for making me care,” said Cas in reply, which wasn’t very grateful but it wasn’t as though he had the best control over his mouth anymore.

“Wow. You’re a delight to be around,” Dean said sarcastically, finally finding his foothold into the conversation. “Gabe wasn’t kidding about the potty mouth when you get going-“

“Fuck Gabriel, especially,” said Cas, even more belligerently. Then he started dry heaving and Dean had to turn him on his side so he didn’t choke and Cas felt significantly more tired after that. “I can’t fall asleep. Please don’t make me.”

“No one’s making you, Cas,” said Dean, wiping Castiel’s hair out of his face as he stared down at him, worried. But Cas couldn’t keep his eyes open, and it might have been seconds before he was unconscious again, beyond help.

*******************

They stood in front of him, naked except for great white wings that dragged behind them, broken and stained red.

“I’m sorry,” Castiel told the two of them. They stared at him with three eyes each, two closed and a third red eye in the center of their foreheads. An eye that remained forever open, a never-ending reminder of Castiel’s guilt. If he had acted differently, if he had tried harder, then Samandriel and Anna wouldn’t be in front of him.

They never spoke, and their was no life in their limbs. They just stood under Anna’s apple tree, staring at him for eternity. Accusing him of his crimes with no need for words.

“Please, I never wanted this,” Castiel begged them. “Please, please leave me alone.”

Neither of them spoke, but their mouths opened wide like fish, gaping and black. Castiel could feel sweat begin pouring down his face, and primal terror work its way down his spine. They had but to move before Cas had turned to sprint deeper into the woods.

Every time he thought he might be getting away, he would trip over an upraised root and they would once again be behind him, hands outstretched and wings fluttering towards him, their feet inches off the ground. Every time, Cas struggled to his feet and kept running through the forest that grew thicker and thicker until he could no longer fit through the gaps between the trees.

He knew he was caught, and had but to turn to see his old friends advancing on him.

“Please-“

They took their time eating him alive. They started with his stomach, and worked their way out, leaving only his throat in tact so his screams never stopped.

******************

FEBRUARY 17, 111 A.L. - IRA

Castiel was never really conscious after that. He was caught somewhere between aware and dreaming where he could feel his old friend’s teeth gnawing on his bones and their hands endlessly ripping out his internal organs, no matter how much he screamed, but he could also sometimes hear in his quieter moments when all he did was sob other voices. Voices that had to belong to the real world.

“I’m here for you, Cas,” said Selma once while gripping his hand hard enough that he felt it even through the mind numbing pain. “I’m praying for you.”

Castiel tried to squeeze back, but he wasn’t sure if he managed.

Sometimes he recognized the voices. He heard Dean’s more than once, taking on a cadence that reminded Cas of when Charlie had spent the afternoon reading Harry Potter to him, and his words filled Cas’ mind with monsters and oceans and being a long, long way from home.

Sometimes, he just heard snatches of conversations, and he couldn’t place the voices at all.

“…you can’t spend so much time here. You have to know what that looks like after…”

“-it’s not working-“

“…you really going to die like this, asshole? After all your shit talking-“

“-he said not to give him anesthetics-“

“-Jo, he’ll wake up when he wakes up-“

“What if we try finding something that might have had contact with the drug? If we can…”

“…God, how did he get so thin so fast…”

And on and on and on, until it all blurred together and Castiel could hardly tell one voice from another anymore. At long last, he couldn’t even scream, he was so past coherent. He just wanted it to stop.

One moment of lucidity hit him before the very worst of it. Dean sat next to him with a book in his hands, and a drawn expression. He looked almost as tired as Castiel felt.

“Kill me,” said Castiel. Dean looked up in sheer shock that Castiel was even able to form sentences. “If you care, please just kill me.”

“No.”

“Dean,” Cas pleaded.

“I’m not changing my answer,” said Dean, voice hard. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes, a bitter, angry smile on his face. “You wanna know what it’s like in Acedia, in the middle of summer?”

Cas didn’t say anything, just listened as Dean got a faraway look about him. The walls seemed to slip from around Dean, and in front of him wasn’t Dean the leader or Dean the general’s son or even Dean the man who stared the world down with a grin. The smile even slipped from his face as he spoke.

“The heat’s unbearable,” said Dean. “It gets so hot we can’t go outside. It gets so hot the life expectancy is twenty years shorter there than anywhere else in the state. I remember spending days with Sam locked up inside while our dad worked whatever maintenance job the city had for him that year and all we could do is lie around and try to pretend we were some place cool. I thought that was the worst place in the world to be. Locked in a room and worried Sam or me was going to die, because we couldn’t afford air conditioning.”

Dean shook his head, then opened his eyes and looked right at Cas.

“That was before I got mixed up with the resistance outreach in Acedia. I was fifteen and Dad made it pretty clear after a while that he expected me to get involved. And hell, I wanted to. I was itching to finally do something, be someone, die for the cause. It was better than dying in one of those tiny rooms,” said Dean humorlessly. “But instead, by the time I was eighteen my old man ended up taking a few rounds in the chest and I ended up in a state prison. I thought I knew what summer was like. Knew it inside and out, but that was before I was shoved into some hole in the ground with twenty people to a cell and maybe water every couple of days. If the guards liked you.”

Castiel stared at Dean’s face transfixed as he kept telling his story.

“I made sure they liked me. Nineteen prisoners dead in that cell by the end of that first summer. But not me,” said Dean, sounding haunted. “It’s just pain, Cas. you hold on until you can’t anymore and then you hold on a little longer after that.”

“Why?”

Dean leaned back again and pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a sigh of frustration.

“Because maybe it’s worth it?” he muttered. “You want to see Selma and Jo, again, right? You want to say “Fuck you” to Naomi’s face? You want to see the state fall?”

“I don’t know what I want,” said Cas, eyes already closing again as he started to sink back into his nightmares.

“Well, I want you alive,” said Dean, as though that settled that. And then he went back to reading the same story he had been throughout Cas’ illness, and Cas fell asleep to dreams of twelve maids hanging in a row, and him at the end with a noose closing tighter around his neck.

FEBRUARY 20, 111 A.L. - IRA

When Castiel woke up, the nausea was gone. He still felt weak, but his mind felt clear and he sat up to see that Sam Winchester and Jessica Moore were standing by his bedside and taking notes. Jess jumped when she saw Cas was awake and sitting up, but then she smiled.

“Cas!” she said, causing Sam to also look up. “Thank God.”

“Are you feeling better?” Sam asked carefully. Castiel nodded and moved his hands to sit up completely, surprised to see they were no longer restrained. He wondered when that had happened. “Cordy’s a genius,” Sam muttered to Jess, who nodded her agreement.

“She had Kate drive in water from Lucrum,” explained Jess when Cas tilted his head in confusion. “She thought it might be similar stuff chemically. It makes you malleable. Takes away your will. We distilled it into a serum and started injected some into your IV. You were dying and we didn’t have anything else. It was worth a shot.”

“We got five gallons of it three days ago, and that was the day Dean said you were actually pretty coherent. After that we tried weening you off it, but we went too fast and you started going into withdrawal again. I think we’re starting to get it right,” said Sam, letting out a big breath.

“How long will it take before I can stop?” Castiel asked. Sam and Jess exchanged glances.

“We don’t know. We’re going to have to play it by ear,” said Jess, as cheerily as she could manage. “But this is a fantastic start! I should go get Selma-“

“Maybe in a while, Jess,” said Sam, cutting her off. “Could you go get Cordy? I’ll take Cas’ vitals while you’re gone.”

“Oh. Okay,” said Jess, frowning at Sam a moment before shaking herself. “I’ll go find her.”

Jess slipped out the door and Sam sat in the seat next to Cas, and started by taking his pulse against a timer and then writing it down.

“We have some things to talk about,” said Sam. “Why did you go back to Superbia?”

“To turn in the report and get medicine for Harriet,” answered Castiel. Sam stared at him skeptically. “Dean can-“

“Dean willingly walked into a room with you alone despite knowing you were acting weird. I’m not convinced he can be smart about you,” said Sam. “And he’s obviously not telling me everything. I know you had your epiphany or whatever. And I know you didn’t try to kill Dean on purpose. That doesn’t mean you’re on our side.”

Cas snorted and looked up towards the ceiling.

“You’ll be glad to hear I’ve been thoroughly disillusioned,” said Cas. He made himself meet Sam’s eyes. “I don’t want any harm to come to any of you.”

“Why did you go to Superbia?” Sam repeated, voice just as deadly calm. Castiel might be scared of him, even, if he hadn’t seen so much worse in his days of delirium.

“Naomi knew about Emma. I told her after I learned of the child’s existence, and I was fixing it. Are you satisfied?” asked Castiel, narrowing his eyes. Sam didn’t seem to like the tone he’d taken. “And a man who was as close to me as you are to… to Jess or Cordelia let’s say- he died because I was there. I understand it’s your job to question my motives and fill in Dean’s blind spots, but don’t expect me to be pleasant about it when every time I close my eyes I have to see Samandriel’s and Anna’s faces staring back at me.”

Sam frowned at him, the vein in his forehead jumping the only sign he was angry. He was good at projecting a calm demeanor, and Castiel still wasn’t at all sure how to read him.

“That should go away,” he said flatly, looking back at his notes. “We think you’ve been exposed to the drug before each time you met with Naomi. The nightmares were your subconscious trying to let you know something was wrong.”

Cas waited for more questions, only to see that Sam was just observing him again. Castiel wondered what he saw.

“I think there’s something you should understand,” said Sam. “I know what you feel like right now. I’ve been through that pain and that doubt and losing myself after I found out that the state wasn’t everything it was supposed to be. I also know that I was dangerous when I was like that. So maybe, I’m not being fair to you. Maybe I’m the only one who can be fair to you. I don’t really care. But if you switch sides or you slip up, I’m not waiting you out again. No matter what Dean says.”

“You could have tried harder to let me die,” said Cas. “No one would have had to know. That’s what Naomi tried to do when she sent me after Dean. For all she knew, you all wanted to shoot me on sight.”

Sam’s expression faltered.

“I’m not Naomi,” he said, sounding disgusted. “And trust me when I say I want all of this to work out. If not for your sake…”

Sam trailed off and shrugged, growing quiet just in time for Jessica to drag Cordelia into the room with her. She seemed a little out of breath, and Cas wondered if she ran to find her sister. That would explain the irritated expression on Cordelia’s face.

“Everything looking good?” Jessica asked, trying to sound innocent. No one in the room bought it.

“He’s fine,” said Sam. “Cordy was right.”

“Always am,” she muttered, still a little out of breath. “Should we start?”

The next hour was spent answering a series of exhaustive questions about everything Cas knew about what he’d been given, detailing the effects, going through the timeline since he had been injected (several times), and assuring them that he wasn’t currently feeling any homicidal urges.

By the time they were almost done, Boris had walked in and sat in the corner sipping at his flask and listening. About the third time Cordelia asked if Cas was absolutely sure about the symptoms he had listed, Boris told them all to knock it off and “leave the poor bastard alone”. The three former scientists seemed to catch on that he was serious, because they didn’t stay long after his outburst.

“Vultures,” said Boris, though he said it fondly enough.

“You don’t need to watch me,” said Cas. “I’m sure Harriet-“

“I’ll head back to her in a moment,” Boris agreed gruffly. “But… thank you. If you ever need anything… just ask.”

He stood up, and offered Cas his flask. Cas shook his head and Boris shrugged and muttered “suit yourself”, before drinking what was left and leaving. And then for about half an hour, Castiel was alone for what was likely the first time in over a week. Despite all the sleeping he had been doing, it was nice to spend time unobserved. To find himself again, even under the numbing sensation that he knew was an effect of being fed the water from Lucrum to counteract the effects of withdrawal.

After a while of being satisfied with doing nothing in particular, Castiel managed to scrap together the will to stand. He was weak-kneed and almost fell over on his first attempt, but he slowly made it to the door and then out into the hallway. He knew someone would find him up eventually and yell at him, but for the moment he wanted to stand on his own two feet again.

He walked to the end of the hallway of whatever floor he was on (he couldn’t remember visiting Dr. Newman when he’d been in Ira before) and then turned around to go the the other way, figuring he would manage the walk without being caught.

Then, of course, Sam had to come back out of one of the other doorways.

“Isn’t Boris supposed to be watching you?” he asked, stopping dead in his tracks.

“I told him to look after Harriet,” said Cas. “I just wanted to go for a walk.”

Tamara and Dr. Newman weren’t far behind Sam, and Dr. Newman was quick to scowl at Castiel and ask him what the hell he thought he was doing, and escort him back to the room he’d been trapped inside for over a week. Then Dr. Newman stayed with him until Charlie showed up with one of her Harry Potter books. She hugged him as tight as she could when she saw that he was for the most part coherent again.

“Did Sam tell everyone to watch me?” asked Cas, because Naomi or not, there was something in him that was hardwired not to accept anything nice in his life. Charlie was his friend, of course. But she was more Sam’s and Dean’s than she would ever be his, and that meant she would lie to his face if it meant keeping them safe.

“Sam’s under a lot of stress right now,” said Charlie diplomatically. “And you didn’t help.”

“I’m sorry my being brainwashed was so inconvenient for all of you,” said Castiel. He flinched internally at how he knew he sounded. Ungrateful and petty and unwilling to understand.

“Okay,” said Charlie slowly. “What’s he supposed to do?”

Castiel looked away from her.

“Sam knows how deep state loyalties go. I remember seeing him have to catch himself when he wanted to defend everything they were doing. You’re going through the same process, I get it. But not everyone can shake that. You don’t know what Dean means to him and me. He’s…”

“A second chance?” Castiel asked, watching Charlie’s lips thin as she looks at him. “I think I understand that tragedy has touched everyone here. Especially him. And I’m not asking any of you for anything. But try to keep me under lock and key, and I will find a way out. I’ve been a prisoner in my own mind, and that is never happening again. You’re worried I’ll go back to the state. I won’t.”

Charlie looked at him steadily. Something twisted itself out of her, ugly and raw.

“I’m worried you hate yourself so much you don’t care who you hurt anymore,” she said to him. “You don’t get to drag Dean or Jo or anyone else down with you. They care about you, and… Fuck it. I care about you too. If you’re not on Naomi’s suicide mission anymore then stop acting like it!”

Charlie shook her head, mustered up a smile and sat herself down in the chair next to his bed while Cas was rendered speechless. Her eyes were still angry.

“Sit back and listen,” she said with feigned cheerfulness. “Because Sam literally only let me borrow this because I’m using my time off to make sure you don’t run off and do something stupid, and this is my favorite book.”

“I thought the other Harry Potter book was your favorite book?” Castiel said quietly, watching Charlie’s shoulders relax as she successfully steered the conversation far away from anything too steeped in reality.

“I told you. Favorite book is more of a tier than a singular thing,” said Charlie. She smiled before opening up the book. “Let’s see how far I can get into this before Jo figures out where I am.”

“Why would that worry you?”

“Because she still thinks these books are stupid,” said Charlie, face falling into a lighthearted scowl. “I’m going to win her over someday, just you watch.”

“You’ve already won her over,” said Castiel back without thinking. Charlie blinked at him.

“Sometimes I really fucking wish you wouldn’t do that,” she said blithely. Cas took the hint and stopped talking, letting Charlie fill the tense air between them with a different world. One where everything had meaning, and the villains were easily recognized if not easily defeated.

Castiel wondered a moment if someone condensed his life down to words on a page, if he would be the villain. Strip him of anything human, and focus on all the things he did in the name of the state.

“I don’t feel like a bad person,” Castiel interrupted Charlie in the middle of reading.

“No one ever does. Not really,” she said. “But for what it’s worth… I don’t think you’re a bad person, Cas. Just confused.”

“I wasn’t confused,” said Cas. “Naomi was trying to make me loyal to her, but my actions were never to protect her. It wasn’t the drugs making me spy on you. Everything I did, I did to get back to my garrison. I was never on your side while you knew me, Charlie. Not once.”

“Then why did you save me?”

Castiel looked away.

“When Meg came after me, why did you save me?” repeated Charlie.

“I didn’t want to see you dead.”

Charlie nodded to herself.

“Like I said. Not a bad person. Just confused.”

And then she went back to reading, and Castiel went back to his thoughts.

FEBRUARY 24, 111 A.L. - IRA

Being confined to the hallway that Dr. Newman worked out of was a level of frustrating that Castiel had not expected. Now that he was officially being weaned off of whatever drugs had been used on him, Castiel was being encouraged to get up and walk around more. This by itself would have been a positive thing, if he wasn’t still constantly being observed by one party another.

When Eileen showed up for one of his daily walks, Cas knew Sam must have argued long and hard that someone had to be watching him at all times. That, and the absence of Dean made it clear that behind the scenes, someone didn’t trust him. Sam obviously, but if Mary Winchester’s second in command was showing up for one of Castiel’s walks around the hallway, he was pretty sure he had more than one person that was wary of him. The general had to approve Eileen being sent to watch him, if no one else was available.

“It was nice of you to keep an eye on me,” said Cas, signing as he spoke. “I’m sure you’re very busy.”

Eileen shrugged, though she seemed mildly amused by Cas’ hand gestures. Perhaps he had by accident conveyed his annoyance and frustration with his hands as much as he had with his voice.

“It’s no trouble,” she said. “Sam wants to make sure you don’t try to kill anyone else.”

“And you do what Sam tells you to do?” asked Cas. Eileen gave him a look.

“Bitch, please,” she said. Cas was glad she spoke out loud, because the signs she used for that phrase were not ones he had learned. “I taught Sam everything he knows.”

“Really?” asked Cas.

“Dean wanted his brother to be prepared to be second in command,” said Eileen. “And I was the obvious choice to train him. I just happen to agree that Sam’s doing the right thing here. No offense.”

“You see me as a threat.”

“You are a threat,” said Eileen, though she patted his arm afterward, as though she were trying to say that ‘wasn’t a bad thing’. “Take it as a compliment.”

“And Sam is making sure I don’t have contact with Dean because…?”

Eileen shrugged again.

“People are crazy,” Eileen said. “But Dean is especially crazy. When he gets it into his head someone is one of his people… that’s it. There’s a reason Gordon is still around, no matter how much it pisses Sam off. And he thinks Dean has a soft spot for you. Feelings like that are dangerous.”

“Something you know from personal experience?”

“As if I would ever answer that question,” said Eileen. She managed to sound dismissive, sarcastic, and pleasant all at the same time. “I’m not an open book, Castiel. In my experience, it’s safer that way.”

“I see what you mean about teaching Sam everything he knows,” said Cas. “He’s not an open book either.”

Eileen smiled.

“Exactly.”

FEBRUARY 28, 111 A.L. - IRA

Castiel was bouncing off the walls as more days passed. Dr. Newman started to give him a modicum more freedom of when he could move about and suggested basic exercises that Castiel could do to begin to get his strength back (but also left strict instructions not to overwork himself).

The amount of people watching him also began to lessen as time went on, so either something serious was happening and Castiel had been demoted to a second tier threat, or perhaps he had proven himself to be so inept at physical activity after spending a week on the verge of dying that his current pathetic-ness had outweighed whatever threat they thought he posed before.

Jo and Selma still visited on a regular basis to keep him relatively entertained while he got his strength back, but even they seemed distracted. No one would tell him exactly what was happening, but whatever was going on had cast an air of solemnity over everyone. Dr. Newman had taken to pacing, in between the time when patients were visiting him.

Cas was the only current permanent resident in the hall put aside for the sick. Harriet was recovering in her own room with Boris, and most other patients preferred to be with their families or friends while recovering from any kind of illness or injury. Castiel, of course, still wasn’t considered safe enough to be left alone long enough to be able to wander off anywhere. he wondered if Dr. Newman knew he had overheard the doctor assigning some of Risa’s or Charlie’s underlings to keep watch each night in case Cas tried to sneak off while Dr. Newman was spending time with his wife and his daughter.

Unlike before, however, neither Corbett, nor Maggie, nor Kevin felt any need to actually be around Castiel, and they usually just spent the night at the end of the hall. This was a relief because it meant Castiel had time to himself.

At least he had until Dr. Newman had gotten a second patient.

It was hard not to figure out one of the other rooms was occupied, considering that instead of an open and empty room, the door was closed and Sam was waiting impatiently outside of it while Castiel was on one of his daily walks with Jo. He grimaced when he saw Castiel watching him, a clear sign that he didn’t want to be observed at the moment.

“Jo, why don’t you and Cas walk down to get some real food. I’m sure he’s sick of leftovers,” said Sam casually. It seemed to take less than a second for her to direct Cas towards the stairs. He wondered if the dismay was visible on his face.

“Elevators are out,” explained Jo. “And Sam really doesn’t want you here right now.”

“I guessed,” said Cas. “Can’t we just… sit here?”

“The guy who had himself stabbed in the leg for fun can’t handle the scary stairs?” teased Jo.

“You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

“Dear God, no. Have you met me?” she asked. Then she looked at the stairs again. “On second thought fuck this. I’m not helping you down fourteen flights of stairs. Gimme a sec.”

Jo took out her radio.

“LaFitte,” she said. “LaFitte, you there?”

“Jo, if you ask me about that damn tree falling in the forest one more fucking time-“

“We’ve got a minor emergency in the med hall,” said Jo. “Nothing serious, but Dr. Newman asked you get here stat.”

Cas frowned at her.

“Why are you lying?”

“Shut up, Cas,” she mouthed, and then mimed closing her mouth with a zipper. “I mean it.”

“Okay, I’m on my way,” said Benny. “Why’d the doc ask for me?”

“Cas is getting worse again,” lied Jo. “And I’ve got to leave in a few. Doc needs someone to watch Cas while he’s with his other patient.”

“Jesus, Dean’s gonna flip,” Benny said back over the radio. “I’ll tell him later. He can’t afford to be distracted right now.”

“Sounds like a plan,” said Jo. “See you in a few.”

Then she put the radio down.

“Why were you lying?” asked Cas again.

“Well, Benny wasn’t going to head over here if I told him I wanted him to help you down the stairs,” said Jo. “No offense, but even with you down twenty pounds, you’re still way heavier than I am. And Benny was probably doing something boring anyway. We’ve got downtime between meetings. That’s why I have time to come hang out with you.”

“Won’t he be mad when he gets here?”

“He’ll get over it,” said Jo dismissively.

Benny took a while to get over it.

“I really can just sit on the stairs,” said Cas, when Benny and Jo were on the fifth round of arguing about the proper use of radios and their relative positions within the non-hierarchy that was Dean’s militia (technically Benny outranked Jo, but in reality Dean let Jo do whatever the hell she wanted).

“No one asked you,” growled Benny, before rehashing the argument for a sixth time, and eventually agreeing to help Jo with Cas if she stole some of Dean’s stash of good alcohol for him. That deal having been made, they made the long trip down the stairs.

Cas was grateful for when they were on ground level and he no longer needed the intermittent support of Benny.

“So, dinner?” said Jo. “Then we could play some gin. Maybe make things interesting.”

“Are you trying to get out of our deal, Jo?” said Benny. Jo widened her eyes innocently.

“Are you accusing me of being dishonest? How dare you.”

“Gee, why would I say a thing like that, darling?” said Benny, rolling his eyes. “You up for gin, toy soldier?”

He nudged Cas in the side, which was almost friendly. Almost.

“I only know Libidine rules,” said Cas. “And I’ll give fair warning, I am very good at that game. It’s the only card game I am particularly good at.”

“I heard you cleaned up at poker,” said Jo.

“I got lucky,” said Cas. “Imagine that one out of a hundred times the less skilled player will win. You saw that particular time. Balthazar was the poker player. He and Rachel made an excellent team whenever they wanted the rest of us humiliated. And I’m still not sure they would beat Harriet more than half the time.”

“Yeah, I remember what you did,” said Benny, chuckling. “You played honest so many rounds in a row that no one really bought that you were lying when you finally bluffed. Risa looked like she wanted to take you out then and there. She must have had a great hand.”

“It doesn’t matter how good your hand is,” said Cas. “All I had to do was give her a choice. Risk losing everything, or keep enough to keep playing. She played it safe. It was the smarter choice.”

“But it wouldn’t work twice,” said Benny. “You’ve got tells, Castiel.”

Balthazar had been more than helpful pointing a good deal of his ‘tells’ out to him, but Cas was interested to hear exactly what Balthazar had picked up on.

“Do I?”

“Yeah. You don’t meet people’s eyes when you’re lying,” said Benny. “You look just a little bit off to the side. It’s subtle.”

“I’ve heard that one before.”

“Yeah, Sam pointed it out to me,” said Benny. “It was an interesting revelation.”

“Was that when you decided you didn't hate me, anymore? I thought that was Gordon’s fault.”

Benny smiled to himself and shrugged, and Castiel got the feeling he was being made fun of still. Benny had a better sense of what to say to piss Cas off than anyone else he had ever met, and something about the way Benny just left his ambiguous statements hanging was enough to irritate Cas much more than it should have.

For that reason, Cas had no issue mercilessly destroying him at Libidine gin.

MARCH 1, 111 A.L. - IRA

Castiel woke up early in the morning to pained sounds coming from the hallway. He had been up late playing a variety of card games with Benny and Jo, and when he had returned to the med hall, all had been quiet.

Benny and Jo had to attend an emergency late night meeting, and Sam was likely there too. The door at the end of the hall by the stairs was still closed, and Castiel hadn’t bothered it. He wasn’t in the business of discovering secrets anymore, and despite evidence to the contrary, he did know when to leave well enough alone.

Or at least he did most of the time. He only lay in bed staring at the ceiling for about thirty seconds listening to the little gasps of pain coming from the hallway before he got up and made his way out. There he saw Tamara leaning against the wall and holding her stomach.

“Are you alright?” he asked quietly. Tamara’s shoulders tensed, and when she looked up, her face was guarded. It occurred to Cas that even in his weakened state, he was still, as Jo had put it, much heavier than Tamara and she likely wasn’t armed at the moment. He took two steps back and repeated the question, hoping that he had made himself at least a little less threatening.

“Fine,” Tamara grunted back at last. “Cramps. I needed to use the bathroom and I didn’t want to bother Dr. Newman. He’s had more than enough sleepless nights trying to keep you from dying. Way more than enough.”

“I don’t know why everyone keeps trying to convince me I should be dead. Evidence would suggest I more than agree with all of you,” said Cas. Tamara barely spared him a glare, too busy leaning her head against the cool wall and pressing her clenched fist into her stomach. “Do you need help?”

“No.”

“Okay,” said Cas, taking another step back and then sitting down against the wall opposite from Tamara. “Do you want me to try to distract you until it gets better?”

Tamara grits her teeth, and just nods before sitting down completely. She hit the ground just this side of collapsing. Cas didn’t comment on it.

“You’re supposed to be distracting me,” Tamara reminded him. Cas nodded.

“Why isn’t Sam here?”

“We’ve got a good shot at taking out Azazel’s communication equipment and isolating him from Naomi and Zachariah,” said Tamara. “We thought we’d have another two weeks, but everything just fell into place. Figures I’d choose now to-“

She cut herself off, then looked up at Cas. Her expression was blank.

“Figures I’d choose now,” she repeated. “Doc wanted me to stay tonight to make sure I was okay. Then he wants me on two weeks bed rest. The fucking bastard.”

“We could stage a rebellion,” said Castiel. “I’ve been out of the loop for a while, but I don’t much like lying around and waiting for Sam to decide when I’m allowed to leave. If he ever decides I’m allowed to leave.”

“Doc’ll kick you out eventually,” said Tamara. “You think Sam’s up your ass? Try being married to the man. He’s insufferable when I’m down for the count. He won’t let me lift a hand.”

She shook her head a moment, something darker crossing her expression.

“Then again, who knows? It’s not like I’m his favorite person in the world right now,” she said. She clutched her stomach a little tighter as she said it, but her face remained defiant. Tamara sat stock still, breathing through the pain and then letting out a long breath. “I hate all of this. You know, I had a beautiful little girl. Smartest little girl in the whole wide world. Isaac and I loved her so damned much.”

It took less than a second for Cas to understand.

“The aptitude tests.”

“She qualified for leadership,” confirmed Tamara bitterly. “They test at seven in Ira. They took her away when she was seven years old. Isaac and I thought she went missing. No one told us anything for months, and when someone finally got around to it, they told us congratulations. Our daughter was serving the state, and weren’t we so proud? She’s twenty now, and for all I know she doesn’t even remember me.”

Castiel didn’t tell her she was probably right. His own mother and father were only a hazy memory, and not one he tended to dwell on. His family was his garrison, and whoever Tamara’s daughter had been, Cas now knew that the state would have shaped her into exactly what it needed. Who was hurt in the process was less than a concern for them.

“We tried to get her back,” continued Tamara. “But every path went cold. And after seven years had passed, we knew we wouldn’t even recognize her if we did find her. So Isaac went to Libidine and I stayed in Ira, because after that long missing her we couldn't stand to look at each other anymore.”

“And then you met Sam,” said Cas.

“I was working under Eileen when she was training him,” confirmed Tamara. She smiled a little at the memory. “And Sam was a twitchy kid with more ambition than he knew what to do with, and a lot of god damn fear of that part of himself after the hell he was put through. But the man’s got more game than you’d think to give him credit for. And he made me feel put together most days. In comparison at least. I fell in love.”

Tamara sighed, and some of the pain started to clear from her features.

“I don’t know why I’m telling you all this.”

“It’s late. You’re tired. I’m here.”

Tamara seemed to accept that as a valid excuse and pushed herself to her feet.

“Just so you know,” she said, looking down at Cas. “I don’t dislike you because you’re state. People make mistakes, I get that.”

“Why do you dislike me?”

“Because you’re a fucking lunatic,” said Tamara. “And I wouldn’t put it past you to lose it and mow down every last one of us.”

Not that Cas had the highest opinion of himself, but that struck him as particularly harsh.

“I don’t want to hurt any of you.”

“No, I don’t mean us, us,” she clarified. “I mean everyone. State, resistance, and the rest in between. I dislike you, because I’m half convinced you could do it, too. Raze everything to the ground without even realizing what you’re doing. I know it’s not your fault. They wanted weapons. That’s why the last Lightbringer stole resistance kids for his experiments. All of that horror, and Naomi just made you by accident.”

“I’m nobody’s weapon,” said Cas, feeling the familiar panic inside him at the thought of being controlled or caged up. And even though he thoroughly disagreed with Tamara’s appraisal of him, he had to admit that Naomi had changed him, and likely not for the better. His nightmares continued to affect him, and it was a struggle to reign in the paranoia, even after Dr. Newman, Sam, Jess, and Cordy had figured out how to successfully ween him off the drugs she’d put him on.

“You say that like it’s a good thing,” said Tamara. “But it’s worse this way. I hope to God I’m wrong, but when I look at you, I see a bomb waiting to go off. You’re angry and frightened and confused, and I don’t want to be around when you decide to do something about it.”

She looked down at her stomach again. Her expression is not regretful, but relieved. Hopeful, even.

“I’ve got a future all planned out, if we win,” said Tamara. “If we’re safe. I can’t do that if Sam or I end up dead. So I’m going to keep my distance from you, because you scare me. Don’t take it personally.”

Then she walked down to the bathroom. Cas went back inside his room, lay down on his cot and went back to staring at the ceiling. He tried to think what he must look like to Tamara and Sam and Benny. He even briefly imagined what he must look like to the fevered hatred of all things that consumed Gordon. He didn’t much like the picture he came up with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings:
> 
> 1) Abortion. Nothing explicit, but it does happen.
> 
> 2) Extreme distress. Castiel goes through something similar to drug withdrawal symptoms. I don't think it's especially explicit, but there is some violent imagery (mostly within Cas' dreams).


	7. Sweetest in the Gale (Part 1)

MARCH 21, 111 A.L. - GUTTUR

Castiel had spent the four day drive to Guttur thumbing through his book of poems endlessly.

After he had recovered enough to be useful, Dean had put him to work under Risa for reasons that Castiel couldn’t fathom. It would have made more sense to assign him to either Benny or Rufus, since Castiel had actually spent a decent amount of time with both of them while he was staying with them. The decision also put him on a very different schedule than Jo or Selma, functionally separating him from the friends he had almost completely. Everyone was busy constantly in the wake of an undeclared civil war between cities, and Castiel was lost in the confusion.

When it was announced that Risa was going to act as a mobile force that was sent between cities, the decision made more sense. Castiel had learned as he worked with Dr. Newman to build his strength and was allowed more freedom that his attempted murder of Dean had caused… mixed reactions among both Dean’s militia and the resistance in Ira. The accounts of ‘what had happened’ varied wildly and the rumors were fantastical when it came to just why Dean might have spent the time he did making sure Cas got better. Keeping the former soldier out of sight and out of mind was a form of damage control, is what Castiel figured.

It didn’t feel particularly good, but it wasn’t as though Castiel had anywhere else to go if he decided to protest. If Naomi found out he was alive, she would realize she’d been played and order him to be shot on sight. Castiel was a ghost, haunting a cause he’d only just started to believe in.

So Castiel took refuge in the poetry. He picked favorites and wrote notes in the margins, spent time with each of them until they felt like old friends. Perhaps not the most social use of his time, but he was no longer a spy. He’d lost any incentive to talk to people he barely knew and felt uncomfortable existing around.

“Are you still reading that damn thing?” asked Trisha Walker. As unlike her brother as she was, Trisha still had a kind of fire that lit her from inside. She spoke what she felt, and she could be callous on occasion. Shortly after starting working with Risa, Castiel had seen Trisha drive Corbett to tears by poking at a sore subject that Castiel didn’t have the context to understand. She and Maggie had nearly had a fight over it, before Maggie had gone off after Corbett to make sure he was okay.

Later, Castiel had seen Trisha apologizing to the two of them. She’d had real regret in her eyes, and Castiel supposed that was a point in her favor. It wasn’t as though he himself wasn’t blunt. He could forgive others lacking self awareness in social situations.

“Yes.”

“You read it for four days,” said Trisha, shaking her head. She took the book out of his hands before Castiel could stop her, and he fought down the urge to snatch it back from her.

“Give it back.”

“I’m just looking,” said Trisha. “Do you have to be such a buzzkill all the time? Dean’s gonna flip when he finds out you wrote in this, by the way.”

“It’s mine,” said Castiel, holding out his hand impatiently. It felt like she had a piece of his soul in her hand, and she was treating it with all the care of a child dissecting an insect.

“Trish, give it back,” cut in Allen Truman. His Voice of Authority worked like a charm, and Trisha returned it the next second as if she’d meant to all along. Castiel wondered if she was at all offended that he used the same voice on her that he used when he was giving instructions to his son, Isaac. Maybe she hadn’t noticed. Allen’s wife, Haley, was trying not to snicker, however.

“Are you all done?” said Risa, causing everyone to suddenly stand a little straighter. She and Billie had just exited one of the other cars with Corbett and Maggie. Both she and Billie looked equally unimpressed with everyone as they gathered around. “Billie says we can stick around for the night before we head back. Mortimer is willing to put us up. Don’t embarrass me.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Trisha, a touch too enthusiastically to be genuine. Risa sighed at her, but waved at everyone to collect what they needed for the night and then started walking off with Billie. Everyone followed behind her, and Castiel found himself trailing at the end of the group.

Guttur hadn’t changed much since the last time he’d been there.

Unlike Ira, most of the taller buildings in Guttur weren’t functional, and were slowly being taken apart as needs for materials arose. The ability to cannibalize the city itself meant that there were surrounding areas that still had surviving relics of previous suburban areas, abandoned for the most part now. Anna had once made them do a training exercise in an abandoned street. It had involved each of them attempting to sneak up on each other and make a “kill” until only one person was left. Castiel remembered how unsettlingly quiet it had been.

Guttur itself was as bustling as Ira, but much more packed. Even in the back alleys Risa and Bille favored while getting close and closer to the heart of the city, people were everywhere. The streets were full of reinforced tents that served as the standard home for most citizens. Mixed among these were backstreet food carts and peddlers. Castiel knew the main streets were even more cramped, and personal space was a nonexistent concept among the poor of Guttur.

All of this made it an unpleasant revelation when they arrived at the steps of building, and were whisked inside when they finished their long walk. Maggie noticed Castiel’s scowl and shrugged at him, likely sharing his discomfort.

Naomi, despite the many reasons Castiel hated her, was an excellent example of living only as well as any other citizen. Perhaps it was for political reasons, or perhaps she simply thought excess beneath her. Either way at least she didn’t have the gall to live so much better than the people of her city so openly.

“Who is Mortimer?” Castiel asked quietly to Corbett, who started and looked around frightened before realizing Cas was the one who had spoken to him.

“Billie’s boss,” Corbett said back quietly. “He’s Markov’s older brother.”

“Family ties aren’t supposed to dictate access to…” Castiel trailed off, looking at the flashy show of wealth in a city whose people overwhelmingly have had to find ways to live in whatever they can build for themselves. “This.”

“If the state was everything it was supposed to be, then it wouldn’t need us,” pointed out Corbett. “Or at least that’s what I think.”

Castiel looked up to see Maggie looking at the two of them talking. Her focus snapped back to Risa the next second. She stayed close by to Corbett, however, like she wanted to make sure he was alright.

Maggie Zeddmore had lost her brother on a raiding mission that went wrong in every way possible. Risa had been sent to Acedia to get ammunition only (as Acedia was always notoriously low on food because of the severe heatwaves that devastated the region). Ed Zeddmore and his best friend Harry, however, knew that at the time the militia was low on food and other cities had more soldiers stationed for protection than Acedia ever did, since it had relatively few resources and was difficult to exist near without proper shelter. They’d made a calculated decision to go after the city’s food stores, and paid for it with their lives.

Corbett had gone along with the two of them, while Maggie had tried to talk Ed and Harry out of it. Corbett was the only one who had escaped alive, and he fell to pieces afterwards. It was an open secret to anyone with eyes that Corbett had a massive crush on Ed, and would do practically anything he said. It only added insult to injury when the food crisis was solved when Dean cut a deal with Canada only a week after Ed and Harry had died.

Maggie and Corbett had both taken the loss very hard. But while Maggie had used the pain as a way to strengthen her resolve in the fight against the state, Corbett had just… broken. It got to the point that he was only on active duty because Maggie, Risa, and Dean insisted he could do it against increasing doubts from everyone else.

Castiel had heard all of this from Trisha, who considered keeping others’ secrets beneath her and wasn’t at all scared of Cas for no reason he could fathom. She talked at and to anyone she pleased, especially people she thought she could annoy or anger. It was a kind of game to her, and one she seemed all too good at playing. The only person she didn’t treat this way was Gordon, who made frequent checks on her safety and had grown ever more angry at Castiel since he’d been assigned to the same section as his sister.

Another reason Castiel thought it was a stupid decision to put him with Risa.

“Alright, you got all that?” said Risa, after having gone through an exhaustive list of ways in which they could embarrass her, some of which had examples so specific that Castiel had a strong feeling they had happened before. Trisha looked like she was trying a little too hard to be innocent, as well. “Great. Food’s down the hall. Cas?”

Castiel looked up in vague confusion. Risa tended not to call him out unless he was doing something that needed correction.

“Billie says Mortimer asked to speak with you. Privately,” said Risa, not sounding the least bit happy about it. “I’m giving you a radio to use if absolutely necessary. If you don’t come back, I’m coming in guns blazing.”

“You don’t trust our allies?” asked Cas, feeling himself tense at the defensive way Risa was speaking.

“Risa doesn’t trust anybody,” said Maggie. “It’s like the foundation of her personality.”

“Did anyone ask you?” said Risa pointedly. “Stay safe, and report back into me as soon as you’re done. For the rest of our stay here, everyone has a buddy. Cas, Trisha is going to be your buddy. Everyone else, if you can’t remember who your buddy is, figure it out.”

Cas tried to muster a smile. He was pretty sure by the vaguely offended look on Trisha’s face that he failed. It wasn’t that there was anything wrong with her, in fact Castiel knew from watching her do drills that Trisha was more than proficient with a weapon and combat. The fact remained that she had a bad habit of saying whatever passed into her mind without thought for consequences.

“Whatever,” said Trisha, playing off the moment of tension. “I can deal, if you can.”

“It won’t be an issue,” confirmed Castiel.

“I mean it might if you’re a complete dick,” said Trisha. “Just saying.”

“I’ll do my best to only be a partial ‘dick’ then,” said Cas. Trisha narrowed her eyes at him, but she looked vaguely amused as well. Then she sauntered off to get food with everyone else while Castiel was left to follow a messenger to the room that Billie and Mortimer were waiting in.

Mortimer had a gaunt, almost skeletal appearance, which was at odds with his excessive access to state resources. He observed Castiel coolly, and wore the casual expression of someone who knew the full extent of their power and the most efficient way to eliminate any threat to it.

Billie sat on his right side, and looked comfortable there. Unlike when she participated in Mary’s meetings, there was no careful consideration on her face. This was Billie Barnes in her natural environment.

Across from Billie was a woman that Castiel had yet to meet. She had on a pair of dark glasses, and beside her was a cane, which led Castiel to conclude she was blind. Unlike Billie and Mortimer, the third woman had something of a cheeky smile, and she reached out to shake Cas’ hand and then pinched his cheek. Cas recoiled when she did, and the woman tutted.

“You’re a soldier alright,” she said to herself. “Sorry I’m being rude. I’m Pamela, Billie’s wife.”

“Nice to meet you,” Castiel said, a little unnerved. “Can I sit?”

“If it makes you comfy,” said Pamela easily. Castiel pulled the chair out and sat down. “So you don’t feel the need to be the tallest person in the room. Interesting.”

“Are you psychoanalyzing me?”

“Does that make you feel uncomfortable?” asked Pamela, brazenly. Billie rolled her eyes, but for the first time Cas saw something like affection in them. It wasn’t a weakness. If anything it made Billie more dangerous. Having someone to care about could do that to a person.

“Yes,” Castiel answered. “I want to know what this is about.”

Billie and Pamela looked toward Mortimer. He used a napkin to shine a ring on his finger before answering, taking his time.

“I have an offer,” said Mortimer. “Would you like to eat something?”

“Is that the offer?”

“I think you’ll find sarcasm is not something I tolerate,” said Mortimer blandly. “Deflection is the most irritating form of lying. And I don’t need dear Pamela here to tell me that you are not a good liar.”

Castiel swallowed, feeling fear slide its way towards his stomach, icy and unwelcome. He nodded at Mortimer, who seemed to take that as an appropriate apology. He nodded toward someone at the door, and plates of food were brought in. Billie, Pamela, and Mortimer all ate in silence. Castiel didn’t touch a thing.

After the meal was over, Mortimer sat quietly for a while, still not speaking. It felt like a test, and Castiel had no idea how he was supposed to pass. At last, Mortimer broke the silence.

“I’m looking to engage your services as a spy.”

Castiel swallowed, considering every word before he said it.

“I’m not a spy,” he said. “I’m a soldier. And I’m fighting for your side.”

“No, you’re fighting for Dean’s side. It makes sense. He took you in as you were losing your faith in the state. A soldier needs orders and purpose after all. Otherwise they just… fall apart.”

“Are you not on the same side?” Castiel asked instead of acknowledging the rest of Mortimer’s statements.

“Don’t be coy, Castiel,” said Mortimer. “We have different goals for a post-state world. I don’t like the idea of a woman who has spent her life embroiled in war making decisions when it’s over. We need to rebuild after the state falls. The resistance doesn’t have the pull to do it.”

“And you want me to spy on them for you?”

“Loosely. Just report anything interesting,” said Mortimer. “Word has it the elder Winchester boy has taken a liking to you.”

Castiel laughed. Billie and Mortimer both looked mildly annoyed about that, but Pamela just smiled at him sadly.

“You really do think the worst of yourself, don’t you sweetheart?” she asked.

“I think I’m not a spy,” Castiel answered back. “And if you hadn’t noticed, I’ve been sent to Risa, the patron saint of lost causes in Dean’s militia. I’m here right now because I wasn’t wanted in Ira. So I suppose I just find it funny that you seem to think I have even the slightest bit of power in that relationship.”

“Regardless,” said Mortimer. “I’d like your help in this matter. Anael did mention that you had a great desire to do what’s right. Somewhere, you must know that someone needs to clean up the mess when all is said and done.”

If they wanted his attention, they got it.

“What are you talking about?” asked Castiel, a thousand strange thoughts flashing through his head. Mortimer smiled thinly at Castiel.

“She was one of the soldiers I recruited to kill the Lightbringer,” explained Mortimer. “Successfully, I might add. Her part was diversion, but she did it well. Better than expected, honestly. Ten soldiers were involved in the plot. Anael mentioned you when I was thinking of increasing the numbers, but ultimately said she didn’t think you would be right to join us when it became clear to her what the chances of survival were.”

Castiel stared at him, trying to keep several emotions from running away from him. Anger welled under his skin, and even if she could not see it, he wondered if Pamela could feel it coming off him in waves. Here was someone responsible, someone to blame, someone to hate.

“Protecting you, I’m sure,” said Mortimer, as though he could hardly understand why Anna would bother. “And I know what you’re feeling right now Castiel. You aren’t a subtle man. But you are a moral one, and I believe you will do the right thing when the time comes.”

“The right thing?” asked Castiel hollowly. “I haven’t known what that was in a long time. And my answer is no.”

“If that’s what you want,” said Mortimer calmly. Castiel was surprised by how unbothered he looked. “You may go now.”

“Just like that?” asked Castiel. “You can’t think I won’t mention what you said.”

“We don’t care,” said Billie. “Mary is aware we’re watching her. This tells them nothing they don’t already know. Why cause premature trouble by killing you?”

“It was nice meeting you,” said Pamela, when Cas stood up to leave. He was itching to be away from all three of them, and he didn’t bother answering before he was out the door.

He took a deep breath, only to turn around and see Trisha right behind him. She was lucky he only jumped and didn’t take a swing at her.

“Risa told me not to listen at the door,” said Trisha. “But I think secretly she wanted me to.”

“I doubt you could hear anything,” said Castiel, knowing the door was fairly thick and none of them had been talking all that loudly.

“Hey, it’s the thought that counts,” said Trisha. “What did they want anyway?”

“Nothing good.”

“That’s super specific. God, do you get off on being cryptic?” asked Trisha. “Whatever. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t dead. Risa would be pissed if her buddy system didn’t work.”

“Still alive,” confirmed Castiel. “And I’d also like to sleep, so if you know where we’ll be staying…”

“Yeah, follow me,” said Trisha waving Castiel back towards a hallway. “We’re sharing with Maggie and Corbett. So… yeah.”

“You’re very different from Gordon,” said Cas. It was an easier train of thought to go down than his current vague worries about Mortimer and Billie. Or worse, the thoughts of Anna that were threatening to stream past the walls he’d built around the subject.

“Considering almost nobody actually likes him, I’ll take that as a compliment, I guess,” she said.

“I only meant the lack of death threats after saying we’d be staying in the same room was refreshing.”

“Oh, that,” said Trisha breezily. “Yeah, I’m not really the murder type. Sorry to disappoint.”

“I’m sure I’ll get over it,” said Castiel, realizing a moment too late that his voice cracked at the end of his sentence. Trisha frowned at him suddenly, as though she’d just noticed something.

“Not that it’s any of my business, but are you okay, dude?” she asked.

“It’s not your business,” said Castiel. “I just… I know a lot of things I wish I didn’t.”

“Join the club,” said Trisha. “I know for a fact that Gordon would kill me too if I stepped out of line. That was fun to find out. I was screwing around with this guy while we were in Lucrum and I didn’t tell him about it because he freaks about stuff like that. He thought I was sneaking off to inform to the state. I’ve got a scar or two to remember that fight by. Boys love scars, though, so I guess I won that one, huh?”

“I’m… sorry.”

“Oh, don’t be,” said Trisha. “I had my crisis already. It’s easier to roll with it than let every little thing fuck you up. He betrayed my trust, and he’s my brother and I still love him despite knowing what he is, and I deal with that. I’m telling you because you actually seem halfway competent, and we need people who can do what needs to be done. Don’t end up like Corbett.”

“There’s nothing wrong with Corbett.”

“In a war there is,” said Trisha. She stopped to point towards a door. “It’s this room.”

Castiel was glad to have an excuse not to talk to Trisha anymore. All he wanted to do was sleep for as long as possible.

***********

“So now you know,” Anna said, sitting at the base of the tree and plucking blades of grass from the ground. She tied them into careful knots and sent small flying contraptions into the breeze. Castiel watched them fascinated as they fluttered and grew feathers, before crumbling into dust.

“Know what?”

“About me. Not a mastermind, or a long time conspirator against the state. Just someone caught up in something larger than themselves,” said Anna. “Are you disappointed?”

“No. I’m just sad, Anna,” said Castiel. “You didn’t have to die.”

“But I did anyway,” said Anna. “I knew I would, if I went through with the plan. It’s why I couldn’t tell you. It wasn’t because I didn’t trust you. It was because-“

“You were protecting me.”

“I try to,” said Anna. “You make it difficult.”

Castiel rolled his eyes.

“You’re not even real. You’re just a dream.”

“Does it matter?” asked Anna. “What I am, I mean? A dream, a ghost, a figment of your imagination to deal with trauma… a memory. I’m dead, so this is all you get anyway.”

“A poor copy.”

“I feel like I should be offended by that,” muttered Anna. She tied another little figure into knots and let it walk on her hand, solidifying into a smaller version of herself before crumbling into dust. “Always a puppet, never a real girl.”

“I remember that story,” said Castiel. Charlie had read it to him while he was recovering. “Pinocchio, the marionette. Carved out of wood and made flesh as his reward.”

“Do you want to be born again, Castiel?” asked Anna. “Not a toy soldier anymore. Just a man?”

“I wouldn’t know how.”

“I guess not,” said Anna. “It’s a nice thought, though.”

***********

MARCH 22, 111 A.L. - GUTTUR

Castiel was woken by the loud sound of knocking on the door.

“Wake up,” said Risa, bursting in without waiting for anyone to answer. “We need to leave.”

“What happened?” asked Maggie, gun already in hand and looking around with a spooked look in her eyes. She tossed Corbett her knife before Risa could even answer.

“Azazel decided to officially put himself on Zachariah’s side,” said Risa. “And then he decided to teach us a lesson. He had one of our possible recruits sneak into one of our buildings. She set it on fire, and everyone above the fifteenth floor…”

“Who?” Corbett asked as everyone else slowly realized what that meant.

“A lot of people,” said Risa, the urgency gone a moment. Pain etched itself onto her face like it belonged there. “The fuckers went after the med hall. We lost Delphine, and Ash, and Boris… Doc.”

“Dr. Newman?” Castiel repeated, the shock starting to settle in. He’d spoken to him just the day before. He’d complained about still having check ups, and told the doctor to fuck off when he’d asked how Castiel was feeling for the third time. And now he was just gone. “And Boris? Why was Boris-”

“Picking up medication for Harriet from Doc. Everyone who was in the upper floors couldn’t get out,” said Risa, rubbing her forehead and taking a deep breath. “Jesus, I’m sorry but we need to go. We still have to swing by Invidia on our way back, and it’s a long fucking drive either way.”

“We’ll be out in fifteen,” said Trisha. Risa nodded to her and left, likely to continue knocking on doors. Castiel, Maggie, Corbett, and Trisha all gathered their things silently. No one seemed to know what to say.

The car trip was similarly silent. No jokes or stories or teasing, just quiet as Allen took the first shift driving on the straight shot they were making to Sanctus. Castiel had been assigned the final shift, which meant he should be trying to sleep right now.

Instead he took out his book of poetry and flipped through idly, until he felt someone glaring at him.

“What?” asked Castiel without looking up.

“Nothing. It’s just people are dead and you’re back to reading your dumb book like nothing happened,” said Trisha. “Not that I had the highest opinion of you, but I didn’t have you figured for a heartless asshole on top of the rest of it.”

Castiel looked down to the page he had turned to. The words sat neatly on it, while Cas’ cramped handwriting littered the edges. He wished he had more room to write what he was feeling now over it.

“There’s a certain Slant of light— Winter Afternoons— That oppresses, like the Heft Of Cathedral Tunes,” reads Castiel softly. “It makes me feel sad.”

“I guess the rest of us don’t need words on paper to give a damn,” said Trisha.

Castiel sighed.

“It makes me feel sad in a way I can understand,” explained Castiel. “It puts words to grief. A Heavenly Hurt that leaves no scar. Just because you don’t think I’m hurting doesn’t mean I’m not, Trisha.”

She held the glare a moment longer before looking away. And suddenly Castiel understood just why Trisha rubbed him the wrong way. In her eyes he could see a fraction of himself staring back.

“The pain no one can see hurt the worst of all,” added Castiel after a moment. “Especially when we’re the ones hiding it.”

Trisha shrugged, not giving him an inch. He hadn’t expected her too. He wouldn’t have if their positions were reversed.

“You kids alright back there?” asked Allen cautiously. Part joke, part actual worry, considering Castiel wasn’t that much younger than he was.

“We’re fine,” said Trisha. “Aren’t you supposed to be driving, old man?”

“Who the fuck are you calling old?”

MARCH 24, 111 A.L. - SANCTUS

They couldn’t get within five miles of Sanctus because of the soldiers Zachariah had stationed around the town. For “strategic” purposes that likely amounted to him being skeptical that the town was really innocent as far as the resistance was concerned.

Not so luckily for Castiel, Risa had suspected something like this would happen and had sweet talked a spare uniform off of Pamela before they’d left. She thrust it at Castiel when he had made the idiotic decision of asking exactly how they were going to get in. Along with the uniform he’d been handed a message which he’d been strictly ordered not to read, and to only give to Ellen, Bobby, or Jody.

Which meant Castiel had five miles of sneaking into Sanctus to do, and five miles to get back. It also meant that they were being delayed an entire day in returning back to Ira. He hoped the damn message Risa was sending was worth it.

It was strange being in uniform again. Castiel had been wearing one for over half of his life. It shouldn’t feel so strange.

There were no close encounters on the way into Sanctus, though it take a while to safely make his way through the groups of soldiers that were roving the edges of the town. Luckily, Castiel had a good sense of when and where they would be looking, and where there blind spots might be. He made it to Sanctus within a few hours of leaving Risa.

Once he was in town, he was careful to look like he was patrolling, and keep his distance from other soldiers. All he had to do was find a familiar face and ask them where Jody was. Or walk to the bar and check there, whichever came first.

As it happened, the familiar face came first. Castiel’s eyes found Mandy, the waitress he’d met at Harvelle’s. She was doing her best not to be noticed, like everyone else in town. Avoiding eye contact with soldiers, keeping her head down.

Castiel tailed her for a street or two before she finally pulled a gun on him and threatened to shoot.

“Mandy,” said Castiel, ignoring the gun pointed at his head. “You probably don’t remember me, but I work for Dean Winchester. He has a message for-“

“Oh,” Mandy said, recognition flickering across her eyes. “Hello, handsome. You know, you shouldn’t scare people like that.”

“I’m sorry,” said Castiel. “I need to find Jody. Or Ellen or Bobby. I have a message I need to deliver.”

“Is that why you’re dressed like the bad guys?” asked Mandy. “Not that you look bad, per se.”

“Mandy.”

“Yeah, okay, I’m getting to it. Let a girl have her fun,” said Mandy, smirking a little. “They should be over at Harvelle’s, but I know an awesome shortcut if you want to avoid notice.”

Mandy led Cas over to a pile of boxes and moved a few out of the way to reveal a ladder going down. She nodded for him to go first and covered their tracks before following him down. The tunnel was all dirt, and didn’t look very safe, but Mandy still looked comfortable there.

“Town secret. These tunnels are three hundred years old, if you’d believe it,” said Mandy. “Jo used to be a bit of a history nut. Read through whatever books we could salvage about this place. Harvelle’s used to be a speakeasy a long ways back, and this how people used to come in and out without the law finding out.”

“A speakeasy?”

“Government before the state banned alcohol for a while,” said Mandy. “Speakeasy was where people could get their fix. Now it’s a nifty shortcut to Harvelle’s from a couple different places in town. One of the reasons destroying every book they come across is going to bite the state in the ass when everything’s said and done.”

“And this was where the children were hiding during the attack on Sanctus.”

“That would be a yes,” said Mandy. “We’re almost there. Just a bit further.”

Climbing up to Harvelle’s resulted in Castiel’s uniform getting slightly dirty. He flinched as it happened, knowing it would make it harder to fit in on his way out. Still, there was no helping it now.

“Mandy, girl, what are you doing here? You don’t work until tonight,” came Ellen’s voice from above as Mandy crawled out of the trap door that was located behind the bar. She went silent when she saw Castiel climbing up behind her and that the two of them stayed crouched down behind the bar. “You two nearly gave me a heart attack. Castiel, what are you doing in uniform?”

“It wasn’t my idea,” said Castiel. “I needed to deliver a message.”

Cas took out the envelope Risa had given him and passed it over to Ellen. She opened it and scanned it quickly, her face growing grim as she read.

“Nothing we didn’t suspect,” said Ellen. “It’s too dangerous to send out messages right now. We cut contact with Ira about a week back. Sorry you have to risk your life to get this to us.”

“I’m not,” said Mandy, winking at Cas. “You’re welcome back anytime. Anytime.”

“Don’t you have something else you could be doing?” Ellen asked Mandy, with a fond roll of her eyes.

“You know I really don’t think so-“

“Mandy,” said Ellen a little more sternly. Mandy sighed.

“Mom might have asked me to pick some things up for her. I’ll get going,” said Mandy. “Hey, handsome? Make sure you get out safe.”

“That would be the plan,” said Castiel back to her. “You should also stay safe.”

“Sure thing, soldier,” said Mandy in a tone suggest enough to make Ellen shake her head in disappointment. Mandy laughed at Ellen on her way out.

“She’s mostly teasing,” said Ellen when she was gone. “Mind you I only mean mostly.”

“I understand. She’s only being friendly,” said Castiel, causing Ellen to give him a look. “What?”

“Nothing. Don’t let anyone tell you that you need to change, kid,” said Ellen with a throaty chuckle. “How are you doing, by the way? Bobby was yammering after you the other day when he heard you had your eggs scrambled by the state. Dean mighta mentioned it to him in passing, and you know how Bobby is. Never could turn away a stray.”

“I understood about half of that.”

“You’ll catch up eventually,” said Ellen. “I’m just asking if you’re managing.”

“I’m… I don’t know,” said Castiel. Ellen kept looking at him, and Castiel felt himself shrinking away from her. “Is that the wrong answer?”

“Not for a second,” said Ellen kindly. “I know you should be leaving soon, but if you need a willing ear…?”

Castiel shook his head.

“Thank you, but no,” said Castiel firmly. Ellen accepted that without pushing, for which he was grateful. “I can see where Jo learned her kindness and bravery.”

“She’s a good one,” Ellen confirmed with a hint of a smile. Deep pride simmered under the surface of what she was saying, and Castiel wondered a moment whether his parents had felt that strongly about him. If they’d loved him as much as Ellen loved Jo. “Make sure she takes care of herself, will you?”

“In any way I can,” confirmed Castiel.

“And pay yourself the same favor when you’re up to it,” said Ellen. “Now you should get going before anyone catches on that you’re here. Tell Risa we’ve got a handle on the situation, and we’re going to stay down until Zachariah makes a decisive move against Naomi.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Castiel. Ellen grimaced.

“And don’t call me ma’am,” she said. “I do have a name.”

“Yes, Ellen.”

“There you go boy.”

MARCH 26, 111 A.L.

Ira had changed so much in the week they had been gone, that Castiel couldn’t help but feel a sense of loss hit fresh when he saw it again. More than one building had been burned, and it was obvious that a battle of sorts between the resistance and Azazel had been raging the past few days. The people they saw in the streets were miserable and suspicious, and more than one of them threatened to tell state authorities where they were if they didn’t move along quickly.

Risa kept everyone calm and forbid anybody engage with anyone hostile. The goal was to get back to Dean, Mary, and the rest of the resistance. Risa stressed her buddy system again, and Trisha let out a loud sigh before striding up next to Cas.

“Hey there buddy.”

“I’m alive. You don’t need to check on me.”

“Well, I’d like it if you pretended you cared if I’m alive,” said Trisha. “Just as an FYI.”

“A what?”

“You’re the worst, and you one hundred percent know what I’m talking about,” said Trisha. Castiel hid a smile, and she punched him in the arm. “Asshole.”

“Have I ever pretended otherwise?”

“I’m not taking a bullet for you. Just so you know.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

Trisha rolled her eyes and they kept walking. Maggie and Corbett were walking ahead of them and talking quietly, and Castiel started to eavesdrop on their conversation, out of habit if not curiosity.

“-and where are we going to be operating out of? Azazel knows where we are.”

“It’s going to be fine, Maggie,” said Corbett, not sounding at all convinced. “We’re going to be fine.”

“Yeah, and what if we’re not?” asked Maggie. “Get real, we’re the unit Dean thinks is most replaceable. Where he sends everyone he thinks is too… difficult.”

“Broken,” corrected Corbett, looking at his feet. Maggie squeezed his shoulder.

“It doesn’t matter what we are. The day I think he’s given up on us, we run,” promised Maggie. “I owe Ed, that. I don't know if he ever… but he cared about you a lot. So I’m going to make sure you’re safe.”

“That’s not your job,” pointed out Corbett. “And I’m getting better, Maggie. Ed and Harry would want us to carry on the fight.”

“Ed and Harry would come up with some harebrained scheme to bring down Azazel that someone with sense would talk them out of,” said Maggie. “They weren’t the brightest bulbs in the building.”

“What you’re talking about it is… I don’t know, is it treason if it’s against people that are technically committing treason?”

“What I’m talking about is looking out for ourselves. The buddy system,” said Maggie, nudging him with her elbow. “And if you think we’re the only ones thinking about it, you’re wrong.”

Maggie peeked behind her to make sure no one was listening and Cas quickly picked a fight with Trisha about something or other so she wouldn’t be suspicious. It was about a minute of Trisha shooting her mouth off at him before she got bored and went back to ignoring him so he could continue listening in.

“-plan. If worst comes to worst. We get out safe,” finished Maggie. “Can we agree on that at least?”

Corbett chewed his lip nervously, cast glances around and then nodded slowly. Maggie breathed a sigh of relief.

It wasn’t long after that that they finally reached where the resistance had moved their operations to. It was much closer to the center of the city, and therefore a lot closer to civilians that Cas was sure Mary Winchester was hoping would turn on Azazel if he tried pulling the same trick again. The entrance to each building was heavily guarded, and Risa was questioned multiple times before being allowed to enter and was made to account for everyone traveling with her. After that, they were told they wouldn’t be allowed to leave unless there was an emergency or under direct orders from Mary Winchester.

Castiel didn’t much like the sudden increase in security, even if he could understand it in part. The lockdown especially made him uneasy. It spoke of plans that were being enacted and despite knowing just how many lies he’d been told about the resistance’s true nature, he couldn’t help but feel the ruthlessness he’d always heard about was true. He’d seen bodies of his fellow soldiers gutted by these people. He’d seen younger soldiers, eighteen and nineteen taken and tortured, especially in the cities of Acedia and Lucrum. He may have friends among them and he may be their ally, but he would not be complicit in cruelty, no matter who perpetuated it.

There were no elevators in this building, or at least none that were working and visible. There were clearly marked stairs and exits, and each floor had guards. The second they arrived, a man named Aaron greeted them and let them know where they would be staying and told them that everyone was currently under lockdown and there would be further instructions in time.

Risa railed against him instantly.

“Cut the shit, Aaron,” said Risa. “I need to make a report, and I should be up there anyway.”

“No one’s up there,” said Aaron to her. “It’s Mary, Joshua, and Dean. That’s it. Everyone else is on lockdown, barring any kind of emergency.”

Risa frowned, taken back.

“Not even Sam’s in on the deliberations?”

“Trust me, we all had to witness just how badly that went over,” said Aaron. Risa’s frown deepened, and worry was etched into every feature.

“What’s going on?” she asked him. Aaron glanced at the guards and Risa pushed him. “Aaron, I have so much shit on you, and I will spill it all if you don’t-“

“We have hostages,” Aaron blurted out. “They want to negotiate with Azazel. That’s all I know, I swear.”

Risa backed off, especially when one of the bigger guards started glaring at her and making threatening gestures. She turned back to Aaron, clearly unpleased.

“Alright. We’ll go where we’re told for now,” said Risa. “But there better be a good fucking explanation for all of this, or Dean’s head is going on a pike.”

Aaron led them all to the five rooms that had been put aside for their return. Castiel tried to shuffle in with Trisha, Maggie, and Corbett into one of the rooms only to be stopped at the last second.

“Castiel?” asked Aaron. Cas nodded. “You’ve been reassigned to Benny’s unit.”

“Oh hell no,” said Risa, instantly on attack again. “That was not cleared with me.”

“Risa-“

“My people are my people,” said Risa. “If they get moved, I’m supposed to know about it ahead of time.”

“He’s not being executed, Risa,” said Aaron, rolling his eyes while also trying not to look afraid of the five foot five ball of anger in front of him. “No need to get crazy about-“

“You call me crazy again and I will smack you,” said Risa, eyes gleaming with contempt. Aaron’s mouth snapped shut, and he looked almost instantly remorseful. “Call me what you want behind my back, but to my face you better have some damn respect. I’m in charge of the safety of everyone here, including any resident ex-soldiers we might have been stuck with. Unless Dean himself comes down here and says I can let one of my men out of my sight, he stays.”

“Don’t shoot the messenger,” said Aaron. “Look, if I send Jo down to get him, would that work?”

Risa crossed her arms and stared him down, evaluating his honesty. Three seconds later she nodded, and Aaron ran off to go make that happen. Cas stood where he had been standing since the confrontation started, and cleared his throat to catch Risa’s attention.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“Shut up and go do something useful while you can,” said Risa, motioning with her hands for them to go into their room, she herself making use of one of the other rooms. When the door closed behind them, Castiel turned to face the people he was sharing with.

“You weren't exaggerating when you said she doesn’t trust anybody.”

“In general, I don’t kid,” said Maggie. She frowned at Cas. “So why do you figure Dean moved you back so fast? I thought he moved you with us so he wouldn’t have to worry about you. Out of sight, out of mind.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” said Maggie, sitting down on one of the beds next to Corbett, who was his usual quiet self. He didn’t seem entirely happy that Castiel had been reassigned, though he was being more neutral than the obviously perturbed Maggie. So they were in agreement then, that what was happening didn’t make any sense.

“I thought he got stuck with Risa so everyone would stop talking about how bad Dean wanted to jump him,” said Trisha nonchalantly. Maggie gave her a withering look, and Trisha shrugged. “What? Like we weren’t all thinking it.”

“I wasn’t thinking it,” said Castiel offhandedly.

“You have the observation skills of a brick wall,” said Trisha. “So not a shocker.”

“You have the self restraint of a toddler.”

“Well, you’re an asshole.”

“Alright, you both suck,” Maggie broke in tiredly. “Is everyone happy now?”

“I wish people would stop asking me that. The answer is invariably no,” said Castiel, eliciting a look of abject irritation from Maggie. “If you don’t want an answer don’t ask a question.”

“It was rhetorical.”

A loud knock on the door interrupted the argument, and Risa poke her head in a moment later.

“You done?” she asked all of them, not even pretending she hadn’t listened in on their fight. “Cas, Jo’s here. You run into trouble, you let me know, got it? I’ve been itching to kick someone’s ass.”

“Seriously Risa?” asked Jo. Risa shrugged and sauntered back off to her room. Jo looked back to where Cas was sitting. “Hey blue eyes. Move it.”

Cas jolted up and went to the door. He paused a moment there, wondering ridiculously if he should say something of a goodbye to the people he’d worked with a week. He even managed to turn around and open his mouth before deciding against it and leaving. No one called any kind of encouragement or goodbye after him, so he supposed he had done the right thing. He would still see them obviously, he just wouldn’t be under the same command as them.

“How was Guttur?” asked Jo as they followed Aaron down the hallway.

“Interesting.”

“Hey,” Jo said, stopping the two of them for a second. “You don’t need to bullshit me okay? Friends don’t let friends carry all their crap alone.”

Castiel nodded.

“Will you trust me that I have a good reason for not telling you?” he asked. Jo frowned and he continued. “For not telling anyone until I know for certain what to do with what I learned.”

That caught Jo’s interest. She nodded now without hesitation.

“Yeah, I trust you,” she said. “But that doesn’t mean you’re off the hook.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” said Cas. “Your mother told me to say hello to you for her.”

“Course she did,” muttered Jo. “She doesn’t know the definition of god damn space.”

“At least you know she cares.”

“Yeah, I guess,” said Jo, though she still sounded put out. Cas raised an eyebrow at her curiously and then. “Charlie and I are taking a break.”

“Again?”

“Yeah, again,” said Jo humorlessly. “It was the fucking fire, and losing Doc and Ash like that… The house on Charlie’s farm was bombed when she was sixteen. State ordered attack, but they tried to make it look like resistance. It was a miracle she wasn’t inside. She told me she just wanted to look at the stars that night, and suddenly her parents are dead and she’s salvaging books from a half burned down library, and running off in the dead of night terrified. Frank found her in the middle of nowhere, and she was fucking catatonic-“

“Should you be telling me this?” Castiel interrupted. Jo looked down.

“No. But fuck it. Charlie’s so terrified of losing people, she keeps everyone at arm’s length. Do you know how long it took her to tell me all of that? Years. We’ve been doing whatever we’ve been doing for so long, and I keep expecting her to change and she just doesn’t. Whenever it gets scary she does something to hurt me and she knows-“ Jo cut herself off, unshed tears threatening to fall and being held back by mere will. “We’ve all had it hard. Charlie doesn’t get to do this to me every time she gets scared. I don’t deserve it.”

“You don’t,” confirmed Castiel. “Maybe you should try being friends for a while.”

“I’m not her friend,” said Jo. “That ship sailed a long fucking time ago.”

Jo collected herself as they walked, and Cas waited until she looked more collected before touching back on the subject he needed to know about.

“How are Harriet and Emily?” he asked.

“Not great,” answered Jo. “To think Harriet made it through fucking cancer, just to see Boris die like that. We kept trying to find and account for people, and the hope in her eyes every time was just… killer. She didn’t accept it until they brought out his body after they’d put out the fire. Emily knew straight off that there was no way Doc made it out, and… I don’t know which was worse.”

She paused a moment, looking a more personal kind of sad as she got ready to say what she had to say next.

“And Selma took it hard about Delphine. It’s a real kick in the teeth, considering what she’d been through before. Talking about being terrified of getting close to someone,” said Jo. “One of the reasons I talked Dean into transferring you over. She needs you there.”

So that’s why he had been switched. A strange mix of affection for Jo standing up for him and disappointment at Dean overtook him.

“Selma’s much closer to Jess and Cordy,” Cas argued.

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” said Jo. “She needs someone… she needs the God stuff. Whatever it is you two talk about. She needs that right now. Or at least, she needs a bit of help to see it. I’m hoping that that will help.”

“But you’re not praying it will help.”

“Yeah, that’s the gist of it,” said Jo. “Personally, I think that God, if she exists, doesn’t give a rat’s ass. But you know, no offense.”

“How could I possibly be offended by that?” asked Cas, getting as much milage out of his dryness as possible to keep Jo on her toes as to whether or not he meant it. If the smirk she aimed at him was anything to go by, she wasn’t worried about his opinion of her.

MARCH 27, 111 A.L. - IRA

The lockdown lasted well into the morning, and Selma, Jess, and Cordy weren’t able to sleep any more than Castiel was while it was happening. Selma had quickly caught him up as to what was happening, and gracefully accepted his condolences for Delphine, and had otherwise been tensed up in a nervous knot.

“We don’t know who they have,” she’d confided almost immediately. “Best guess is that they found something they know Azazel wants to keep to himself when we raided one of the buildings we know he frequents. There’s been heavy back and forth since… since the fire. But ever since we got our newest captives it’s just stopped.”

“Why aren’t they telling anyone anything?” asked Cas.

“Well, if we knew we’d know something,” said Selma. “Jess thinks it’s more people they’ve been experimenting on. She said she talked to Tamara and Rufus about it. The building they found them in had lab equipment and living areas. With bars and locks on them. Eileen led the team that retrieved the hostages though, and they didn’t get to see until after.”

“Whatever it is, it’s big,” said Cordy. “And I don’t like it.”

“As far as I can tell, no one likes it,” said Cas. “How long do you think the lockdown will last?”

“They won’t tell us,” said Jess. “And trust me I’ve asked.”

“And I’ve asked more persuasively,” added Cordy. Jess side-eyed her. “Wearing a shirt that’s a size too small is so uncomfortable, but can be so worth it.”

“We’re not related,” Jess said in a loud whisper to Cas and Selma.

“C’mon sis, just because I know how to get info out of drooling idiots doesn’t mean you can disown me like that,” said Cordy, clearly entertained by Jess’ reaction. “It’s for the greater good.”

“Uh huh,” said Jess skeptically. “Anyways, there’s nothing they’ll tell us.”

“So we just wait,” finished Selma. “And hope it’s over soon.”

Castiel nodded, looking toward the window and determining that it was a few hours until morning yet. He looked back at Selma and cleared his throat.

“Did you want to talk about-“

“Not right now, Castiel,” said Selma, sounding tired. “I can’t process that and all of this at the same time. I just can’t, okay?”

“I understand,” Cas promised. “But if you need me I’m here.”

“I know,” said Selma. She paused a moment, thinking something over. “Have you ever been in a mosque?”

“I don’t think so,” said Castiel. “At least not one that was being used as such.”

To find an intact building that hadn’t been repurposed in some way was rare, and places of worship were no exception. Buildings that were still being used as a place of worship were few and far between and small religious communities tended to collect around them. Castiel vaguely remembered from when he was young that most of the people he knew were also Christian, and had realized later that that was not the case for the majority.

“In most of them there is a mark on the wall, a mihrab, so that we know which way to pray,” said Selma. “Toward Mecca. A place I’ll never see. I think a lot about that. Pouring so much faith and devotion into a city I’ll never have the opportunity to make a pilgrimage to.”

“God accounts for circumstance.”

“I know,” said Selma sadly. “I only meant sometimes it feels like everything’s like that. Just an inch away from my fingertips, no matter how hard I reach.”

“Maybe that’s a sign that you need to keep reaching.”

“I’m tired, Cas.”

“And I understand that too,” said Cas. “You’re a much stronger person than I ever was, Selma.”

For a moment something frantic in her eyes seemed to calm. There was an iron will behind everything Selma was, but maybe she needed to be reminded of that every once in a while. It wouldn’t heal her, but it would keep her going for now.

“Thank you,” said Selma. “I’m glad you’re back.”

“I am too.”

Morning came slowly, and the wait was filled with a tension Castiel was certain almost everyone in the building shared. No one could shake the sense that they were in incredible danger, and that was why they had been kept out of public. Morning didn’t bring relief from waiting, and the guards went around passing out food before returning to their positions.

Castiel ached to get out. That same feeling that had made him panicky when he was sick (when Dr. Newman was treating him, he thought with a hollow pang of sadness), was returning, and he couldn’t stay here. Someone might be coming for him. Or it could be a trick, and the guards would come around again and lock all the doors, and he wouldn’t be able to get out. Or perhaps they would go after him specifically, and lock him in this room forever, stuck between this awful dread brewing in his gut and a nine story drop out of a window he can’t fit through-

Cordy clocked his rising panic first.

“Cas,” she said cautiously. “You need to breathe okay? No one’s going to hurt you. You’re safe.”

Jess caught on immediately.

“How about we have you sit down,” said Jess, gesturing towards one of the beds.

“What’s going on?” asked Selma in confusion. Jess held up a finger to her mouth and Selma nodded, understanding she needed to be quiet at the moment. Castiel tried to stop the panicked feeling from clawing it’s way out of him, but all that did was make it worse.

“It’s okay, Cas,” said Jess. “Is it okay if I touch you?”

Cas nodded, and she helped him sit on the bed, and then sat next to him, reminding him to breathe and that he was safe. It was about ten minutes before he could feel his heart rate starting to slow and bit by bit he came back to his senses.

“I’m fine,” said Cas quietly to Jess, who was still trying to talk him through it. “I’m better.”

“Okay,” said Jess calmly. “Can Cordy take your pulse? I’ll be right here in case anything sets that off again, okay?”

Cas nodded and Cordy took his pulse and looked him over before saying he looked fine.

“Once we…” Cordy trailed off, swallowing hard. “When we find a new doctor, you should talk with them about that. We might be able steal some medicine that will help.”

“I thought you didn’t like me,” said Cas, because tact had never been and would never be one of his strong suits.

“I didn’t trust you. There’s a difference,” said Cordy. “What you did for Harriet… you changed my mind. Try not to be a dick about it.”

Castiel didn’t really know what to say to that.

It was an hour later that they cleared everyone to leave their rooms and report to whoever was in charge of them. Castiel remembered what he’d learned in Guttur, and decided then and there that he needed to find Dean and tell him what Mortimer had offered him and warn him that he suspected he wasn’t the only one who had received such an offer. They let him go too easily without trying harder to win him over, and Castiel was certain they wouldn’t have done so unless they had a backup, if not multiple backups.

Finding Dean turned out to be easier than he thought it would be.

Everyone was supposed to report to Benny, who had been radioed instructions to relay so that they could return to their regular duties and responsibilities, and it was apparent before a word left Benny’s mouth that some people weren’t happy.

“What the hell was going on?” demanded Lydia before Benny could get a word in edgewise. “And don’t look at me like that, my daughter was terrified. You can’t put us through shit like that and just act like nothing happened.”

It was only then that Cas saw Emma, a few steps behind her mother and with her head down. Like she was trying not to be noticed. It was such a departure from the outgoing, courageous girl he’d seen in passing several times before, that he couldn’t help but take notice.

“Lydia-“

“Fuck you, Benny,” said Lydia, taking her daughter’s hand and stalking off towards the stairs while Benny yelled after her to get back where she was supposed to be. Castiel took advantage of the chaos that was everyone trying to get organized so he could slip after Lydia, hopefully unnoticed. No one else bothered to chase her down.

Lydia argued her way past several sets of guards ahead of Cas, and Cas told each of the guards that he had been sent to retrieve Lydia in order to get past them. He followed her up to the twelfth floor, always far enough behind that she wouldn’t catch him.

Once he got to the twelfth floor, he ducked out of sight. He didn’t need to be that close to hear the shouting match that was happening.

“You said it wouldn’t be like this,” said Lydia. “I agreed to keep her close to you, and you said that it wouldn’t be like this.”

“Why did you bring her up here?”

“Where was I supposed to leave her? With Dr. Newman? Oh right, he’s dead! With the Patels? As if they don’t have their own child to raise without having to raise ours too.”

“Lydia-“

“No. It’s not about being safe all the time, I get that Emma and I can’t have that. I’m not asking for special treatment. I’m telling you if you don’t keep everyone fucking updated about what’s going on, I’m going someplace where that won’t be an issue. I know that Ellen and Jody have offered to help with her. I will take them up on that offer if you don’t shape up.”

“There are things going on right now that you don’t understand-“

“Well, I understand this. If I’m going to be putting my life on the line, I better damn well know what it’s for. And I know that if you aren’t keeping Emma’s safety as your number one priority, then I’m going wherever I can ensure that that will happen.”

“You can’t take her from me,” said Dean, voice louder and flatter as he kept talking. “I won’t let you.”

“Try and stop me,” said Lydia. “If you cared about her-“

“Don’t you dare question that,” said Dean. His voice dropped in volume a moment. “Emma, sweetheart…”

Little steps sounded as someone came bounding past where Cas was hiding. On instinct, Cas reached out to stop her from fleeing. Emma turned and tried to bite him. Castiel instantly let go of her arm, and she turned to run again.

“Emma,” said Castiel softly. “Please don’t.”

“I don’t know you,” she said back vehemently.

“I know,” said Cas. “But I remember that when I was around your age, I would sometimes get into fights with my friend Balthazar. And when I did, I would go and hide until he managed to find me. I was stubborn like that. It took me a long time to figure out how much that hurt him. You don’t want to hurt your parents, do you?”

Emma looked at the ground again, tears spilling down. Moments later Lydia was there, scooping her up into her arms.

“It’s okay, baby. I’m here,” she crooned softly to Emma as the girl hid her face in her mother’s hair. Lydia only looked surprised for a moment to see Cas standing there before the anger hit. Cas waited for her to start yelling at him and was surprised when she turned around to shout back at Dean.

“It’d be nice if you had as much time for your daughter as you did for your new boyfriend, you asshole.”

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about Lydia,” said Dean, sounding defeated. “Cas isn’t even here right now, and you know it’s not like that.”

Cas rather awkwardly stepped from behind the corner he’d been hiding in.

“Oh right. Of course you’re here right now,” said Dean. “Just fucking figures.”

“I had something to tell you, and I followed Lydia because I assumed she would know where you were-“

“Don’t worry,” said Lydia, clutching Emma tighter to her side. “I was just leaving.”

Neither Dean nor Castiel said a word until Lydia’s footsteps had faded down the stairwell. Castiel broke the silence first.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been… I have a bad habit of eavesdropping that I need to break.”

“Why are you here, Cas?”

“I wanted to report something.”

“You should have reported it to Risa or Benny then,” said Dean.

“I thought it was important this information not be widely known,” said Castiel, pushing against the distance that Dean seemed to be trying to keep him at. “But if you’d rather I not use my better judgment-“

“Just tell me,” said Dean turning around and walking. Castiel supposed he should follow, so he walked quickly after Dean to a room Cas supposed must be his. That notion was confirmed when he saw the books stacked in boxes in one of the corners. “Well?”

“While I was in Guttur, Mortimer asked to speak to me privately,” said Cas. “Risa will include that in her report. You aren’t going to like what he said.”

“Yeah, I could’ve guessed that.”

“He wanted to enlist my services as a spy,” said Castiel stiffly, responding to the hostility that was coming off of Dean in waves. “He asked that I report in on the resistance to him. He made it clear he intends to take over after the state has fallen.”

“So what’d you say?”

That threw Castiel through a loop.

“What?”

“What did you say to him?”

“No. Of course I said no,” said Castiel.

“Should’ve taken him up on it and sent him back bullshit. Might’ve been entertaining. Then again, you’re a shitty liar, so-“

“If you want me to leave, you can just ask. It’s not my fault Lydia made those threats, and it’s not my fault that she’s right that what you did to everyone under your command is nowhere in the realm of what a good leader should-“

“Fuck off. You think that was my call? Or that that was easy? Do you want to know what your problem is, Cas? It’s that you seem to think that if you tell people the truth they’ll do what they’re supposed to and fall in line.”

“What happened to giving good people options?”

“Yeah, well sometimes good people don’t like the things that have to happen,” said Dean, using his fingers to rub his forehead. He looked drained again, and Castiel resisted the urge to reach out to him. He was too angry to try to do- something. He didn’t know what.

“I think that trusting the people who have put their faith in you is the least that you can do,” said Cas. “Unless you want people to abandon their posts.”

“Bring up Lydia one more fucking time-“

“I’m not talking about Lydia. Like I said, I have a bad habit of eavesdropping. People are scared and you’re making it worse.”

“We have a war to win.”

“You have people to take care of,” said Cas. “That should always be more important.”

“You’re baggage isn’t my fucking baggage, Cas,” said Dean. “Don’t try to push your shit on me. You don’t know me, and you don’t get to pretend to.”

“I know you’re scared of your father, even though he’s been dead almost half your life,” said Cas, knowing full well how touchy a subject that was. “I know you blame your mother for leaving you with him. I know you resent Sam for writing you off when you were in prison. I know that you’ll give anyone a second chance, even if they don’t deserve it. And I also know that you’re trying to make me angry. I just don’t understand why.”

“And I know you can go to hell,” said Dean with tilt of his head and a hand gestured towards the door.

“Why are you acting like this?” asked Castiel, his frustration clouding any kind of self preservation instinct he might have. Not like that was difficult. “I thought- I thought we were friends.”

“Yeah, well you’re the only one who thinks that,” said Dean. “That’s kind of the problem.”

“What does that even mean?”

Dean laughed, a mixture of disbelief and sheer exhaustion.

“You know what? Fuck it.”

And Castiel had felt a long time like he had the answer at the tip of his tongue, though perhaps it shouldn’t have had to happen quite so literally for him to really and truly get it. Being yanked in by his shirt collar for a kiss that was both his first in the waking world and yet strangely disappointing was one way to come to his senses.

“Oh. That,” said Castiel, after a few seconds silence following the kiss. “I was planning on ignoring it.”

“Yeah. Me too,” said Dean, before leaning in again. It was better, that second time. Less angry. Less like a trigger finger ready to pull. Cas could feel Dean’s muscles relaxing under his hands, like they’d just been waiting for someone, anyone, to touch them like this.

“Dean, I don’t know how to-“

“You’re doing fine,” he reassured. “Hell, you’re doing better than fine.”

Cas swallowed a yelp when Dean nipped at his neck, and glared at Dean when the bastard flashed him a grin, before tugging Cas’ shirt up and over his head, and it was only then that Cas realized Dean had already managed to slip his coat off his shoulders. Cas let it continue, fascinated by the gleam in Dean’s eyes. It felt like something was bubbling under his skin anywhere Dean touched him.

He wasn’t sure just how far he might have let it go, if the creak of Dean’s door opening wider didn’t have the two of them springing apart. Castiel had a second to clock a wide eyed Sam walking in the door, apparently shocked out of some kind of rage, before Dean started talking.

“Cas, you should go.”

“I don’t even know why I’m surprised,” said Sam, shaking his head. “This has you written all over it.”

Cas opened his mouth to defend himself, because he had seen this coming like a bullet to the back of the head, which was to say not at all. He realized Sam was talking to Dean a second before he said anything.

“Cas was just making a report.”

“And he needed to be shirtless to do that because-?” said Sam flatly. “I thought you were putting this kind of behavior behind you or was that just- You know what, I don’t care. None of my business. What the hell kind of deal did you make with Azazel?”

“Return of hostages for a ceasefire,” said Dean. “Not that complicated.”

“All of the hostages?” Sam asked pointedly. Dean froze.

“Cas, you need to leave,” he said sharply, lowering his voice and asking Sam. “Who the hell let you down there?”

“Eileen found an additional stairwell that had been boarded up,” said Sam, nonchalantly. “We thought we’d check it out. Keep informed.”

“Who was-“ Cas started to ask, only to have his shirt and jacket shoved into his arms and be pushed out of the room by a very insistent Dean. He checked the pocket of his coat and saw that his book had gone missing, and knocked on the door.

“What?” asked Dean, angry again. He was always so damn angry.

“I dropped my book.”

Dean blinked and then turned around and retrieved the book of poems. The second it was in Cas’ hands, he slammed the door shut again.

Cas put his shirt and coat back on and proceeded downstairs. As soon as Benny found him, he was subjected to a tongue-lashing about wandering off and just how shitty a person he was, most of which he ignored. The hostages that were being held were in the basement of the building, Castiel had determined, since every other floor was open as far as he knew. That meant he had to find this staircase that Eileen and Sam had, and preferably before Dean sent someone to guard it.

“Are you even listening to me?” asked Benny, catching on at last. Cas looked at him.

“I’m not allowed to wander off,” said Castiel dully.

“Alright, fine. Be a smartass about it and see if I care. Hope you enjoy all the shitty jobs you’re gonna get for disobeying orders.”

“You’ve already thrown your worst at me,” Cas pointed out half heartedly. Benny stopped his tirade for long enough to look at Cas a little closer now. “What?”

“You feeling okay, Castiel?” he asked. “You look a little… unnerved.”

“I’m fine.”

“Uh huh,” said Benny, sounding concerned now. “Lydia told me you’d followed her up to see Dean. Distressing conversation?”

Castiel looked away a little and cursed Sam when he remembered that that particular Winchester had laid out all his tells for Benny’s entertainment. It was only a few seconds until…

“My, my, is our resident robot blushing?” asked Benny, all worry instantly gone. “So less conversation, then.”

The day Benny LaFitte stopped knowing how to push his buttons would be a blissful fucking day.

“I don’t know what you’re implying.”

“The best part is that you know I know you’re lying, and you still can’t look me in the eye,” said Benny, mirth obvious. At least it gave Cas an excuse to stalk off without being suspicious, if nothing else. Benny laughing after him made him want to spin around and knock a little respect into him, but that wouldn’t go over well and it would keep Castiel from learning whatever was happening in the basement.

Finding the stairwell was easier than planned. There was a path of dust that went unnoticed by the busy people milling about, but was obvious if one had the eye for it. Two sets of footprints coming from an unguarded corner, which Castiel slipped behind and made his way through the whole that had been knocked into the wall by Eileen and Sam before him.

The stairs were falling apart, and Castiel was careful only to step on spots that supported his weight. By the time he reached the bottom, he had nearly fallen through the rotted wood three times. He wondered a moment how on earth Sam had managed before deciding he didn’t care.

Then he got to the bottom.

Three people were being guarded, each of them heavily restrained. Two appeared calm, if angry. A woman and a man sat on either side of the emaciated and clearly malnourished and mistreated woman sitting between them. She was begging the guards to release her.

“Please, I’m not state. I’ll do anything, just let me out,” she said, babbling on and on. Castiel felt like he was going to be sick. “Please.”

Cas had knocked out the first guard before he knew he had made a decision to do so, and disarmed the other two within a matter of seconds. One of them called for reinforcements, but Cas had already cut the poor woman’s bindings and pulled her to her feet before standing in front of her, backing up slowly towards the staircase.

“Go up that way. Be careful as you go up the steps and scream as soon as you see people,” said Cas, guns trained on the two guards he had disarmed.

“What about you?” asked the woman, slowly.

“I’ll be fine. Just run,” said Cas.

She turned to do just that, but stopped a moment ignoring Castiel’s shout of encouragement.

“Kelly Kline,” she said holding out her hand to shake, like a long forgotten gesture. Cas sighed and twisted to quickly shake her hand.

“Castiel,” he said back. “Now go!”

She’d only just disappeared from sight before reinforcements arrived.

“Drop your weapons or we will shoot,” said one of Mary’s people, a voice he vaguely recognized. Possibly he’d eaten lunch or breakfast at a table with him or something else. It didn’t matter. There were people here who knew his face, and that would hopefully be enough to keep him alive.

Castiel dropped his weapons, and followed instructions as they told him to put his hands up and then lay on the ground. He vaguely understood he had just gotten himself into a world of trouble again. The thought was lost to him as he focused on breathing while one of the guards secured his hands behind his back. You will not panic, he told himself over and over again. You’re safe. You’re okay.

Perhaps it would have worked better if he even remotely believed that was true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a while. I have been steadily working on it, I promise. This chapter just needed to come together. Hope you liked!


	8. Sweetest in the Gale (Part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter (Sweetest in the Gale) got really long, so I'm splitting it into three parts instead of two like usual. That means there will be a part three for this chapter and hopefully it will be up much sooner than usual between installments since I am almost done with that.

MARCH 28, 111 A.L. - IRA

No one bothered to tell Castiel what had happened to Kelly after he’d been locked into a different area in the basement. They’d handcuffed him to something metal and heavy and melted beyond recognition of it’s original use. They’d also been thorough in making sure they disarmed him, which meant that his best option for escape was dislocating his thumb, and he was still fairly certain that wouldn’t work.

So he sat quietly and tried to empty his mind of thoughts about his present situation. Instead he reminded himself of the time Benjamin, Mirabel, and Susannah had held an all day tournament on their day off to definitively decide who was the best marksman. Susannah had taken the day, and only just. Afterwards, she’d teased Benjamin mercilessly for hours. He was a good sport about it, for the most part. Mirabel on the other hand had been in a dour mood for a week. Every time she saw Susannah she would scowl and Susannah would smile extra wide at her, though she was smart enough not to actually bring up the competition to Mirabel’s face.

Cas was almost smiling when the door finally burst open and four people walked in. Three Winchesters and one Eileen Leahy. Castiel looked up at them and sobered his expression.

“Did Kelly escape?”

Dean closed his eyes in quiet consternation, while Mary reacted with a raised eyebrow of suspicion. Sam, to Castiel’s great surprise, tried to hide a smile. Eileen’s face was more neutral, but if the fact that she was standing beside Sam and not Mary was any indication, she hadn’t agreed with trading Kelly back to the state either.

“What I’m trying to figure out,” said Mary. “Is how you even had the time or knowledge to orchestrate all of this.”

Castiel frowned.

“What do you mean?” he asked. Mary’s jaw clenched, silent anger pulsing for a moment before she continued.

“Kelly Kline is currently under the guard of Risa Jones and everyone under her command, along with Jo Harvelle. They fled with Kelly after almost getting into a gunfight with the people that went to retrieve her after you helped her escape,” explained Mary. “How did you turn them against us?”

Castiel looked between all four faces.

“I just let her out,” said Castiel. “I didn’t plan to, I just saw her and I couldn’t let her stay like that. I just hoped that if someone would have the good sense to help her if she got out since none of you did.”

Three pairs of eyes dropped to the floor shamefully, but Mary’s stayed fixed on Castiel. She wasn’t unaffected and her eyes weren’t cold, but she did have a hollow sense of certainty ringing out from her. Righteousness personified, thought Castiel in a brief fit of poetry.

“Kelly Kline is incredibly dangerous, no matter how she looks,” said Mary. “Do you know why they weren’t feeding her? Because they were afraid if they did she might find a way to overpower them. She is the result of intense experimentation about the limits of the human body and the human psyche, and if you knew the half of what she could do if let out into the world…”

Mary trailed off and shook her head.

“That poor woman deserves better, but that’s not ours to give her right now. I need our safety secured. We’ve lost good people this past week, and we were going to lose more,” said Mary. “We had a plan in place to get her back eventually from Azazel, after we had taken out as many of his methods of retaliating as we could.”

“Eventually isn’t good enough.”

Dean interjected before Mary could go on.

“Maggie and Corbett started the confrontation by protecting Kelly after she screamed for help and then said you had saved her. They weren’t where they were supposed to be,” said Dean. “Did you have anything to do with that?”

“No,” said Cas firmly. “I did… I overheard them saying they planned on deserting, but I didn’t think they would do so this soon, and I had no way to know they would help Kelly. I assure all of you that I have always been more of a pawn than a player in all of this.”

Dean didn’t take that news well. It was clear he was both angry and hurt that Maggie and Corbett would just leave like that, without a word. He’d always been outspoken in defending them, especially Corbett, and it had to hit him a little hard that they would leave just like that.

“And you didn’t tell me that earlier because?” asked Dean.

“I tried to. You weren’t interested in listening,” retorted Cas. Sam snickered and both Castiel and Eileen, who was notified by the slight shake in his shoulders, glared at him. Eileen kicked him in the shin for good measure, which shut Sam up quickly. They were, after all, in the middle of a hostage situation in which they’d lost one of the hostages that Azazel was expecting back. Also, if the quick glance Dean couldn’t help stealing at Mary was anything to go by, he hadn’t told her about their conversation earlier, or at least hadn’t told her everything.

Mary was quick and it was too late for her not to have made the connection.

“Right,” she said sarcastically. “Because that makes this less complicated.”

Dean’s face had started turning red.

“Thanks for the advice, mom,” he said, turning the last word into something a little cruel. “I can get you a crow bar if you want the lesson to sink in.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” said Mary, a little pale faced now. “If I had any idea that he would have done anything like that I never would have sent you and Sam-“

She cut herself off when she noticed Castiel looking on curiously.

“We’ll discuss this later,” said Mary. She refocused her attention on Castiel. “For now, we need Kelly back and we need you to be the one to get her. We don’t want anyone to get hurt, and Risa has reliably informed us after sending off warning shots that if anyone comes to harm Kelly Kline, there’s gonna be blood.”

“Or you could renegotiate the hostages,” said Castiel. Mary shook her head, eyes grim.

“Azazel didn’t care about Dagon and Ramiel as much as he cared about getting Kelly back,” said Mary. “We’re at war and he can’t afford to lose a weapon. And he’ll like it even less if we take her in.”

“He’s going to kill her,” Castiel pointed out. “That’s what the state does when its tools get dull or don’t work correctly. I always knew that was the case for soldiers, and I doubt Azazel has for Kelly even the little respect he might have for people like me. You’re sending her to her death.”

“Cas is right,” said Sam, causing both Mary and Dean to turn in his direction. He shifted a little uncomfortably but held his ground. “C’mon, none of us think this is right. He’s just the only one who did something about it. We don’t get to decide who lives and dies. That’s sort of the whole point.”

“And what’s the point if Azazel continues trying to kill all of us?” pointed out Mary. “I’m responsible for everyone, do you boys understand that? I have to go to the funerals of the people who die and tell their loved ones that I’m sorry for their loss and know every second that if I did something different, they might still be alive. We need this ceasefire.”

There was silence for a few seconds before the answer arrived in the form of a determined and, in Castiel’s opinion, idiotic Dean.

“Okay, then we’ll get the ceasefire,” he said. “We call Azazel and say we don’t like his terms. We keep Kelly, and he gets insurance against us using her as part of the fight. He wants her off the board, and if we guarantee that he’ll take the deal.”

“Insurance?” asked Eileen suspiciously. Sam had already starting shaking his head.

“Me,” said Dean. “Kelly stays out of the fight, and Azazel has his hostage. Win win.”

“No,” said Mary. “We’re not doing that.”

“Since when are you this crazy?” asked Sam. “Why on Earth would we agree to that?”

“Your unwavering support is inspiring,” said Dean sarcastically. “Sam’s ready to head up operations for the militia, and hopefully he can figure out a way to keep anyone from running off from their positions.”

“Is this about Corbett and Maggie?” asked Sam. “Dean, they were just scared, that doesn’t have anything to do with you.”

“Over my dead body am I sending you as a hostage to that awful man,” said Mary fiercely, at almost the same time.

“Don’t be dumb, Dean,” added Eileen sagely. She stayed out of the argument that ensued after her comment, because no one was signing and she couldn’t read everyone’s lips at once. Castiel listened to them argue and felt something slide into place as they tried to convince each other.

“Dean,” said Castiel. The three didn't stop arguing. “Dean!”

“What?” Dean snapped.

“I have a better idea.”

MARCH 29, 111 A.L. - IRA

Convincing Kelly to come back was a task that was left solely to Cas. She had been suspicious, but as soon as Castiel had explained the plan, she had agreed to go through with it. He’d been a little surprised that she was willing to place herself in danger again so soon, until she explained herself.

“I spent more than half my life underground because of that man,” said Kelly. “Because my parents sided with Joshua against Azazel. I don’t even know if I’m human anymore, Castiel.”

“Your humanity isn’t the one which should be questioned,” said Castiel. “I’m sorry for what happened to you. Personally sorry. I was a soldier. A portion of the blame is and always will be mine.”

Kelly took that news in with a deep breath and a flicker of doubt before she squared her shoulders.

“I get it,” she said. “I knew what was expected of me when I had a life. Take the aptitude tests, place in a leadership role. Join my family in the politics of the city. I can’t say I would have spoken out if it hadn’t been me, if it had been one of my friends who was kidnapped and whose parents were… What I’m trying to say is silence would have been so much easier. So I get it.”

“You don’t need to forgive me.”

“Good. I haven’t,” said Kelly with a little sigh. “But I trust you.”

“You trust me?” asked Castiel in confusion.

“You’ve got kind eyes,” said Kelly. “And you helped me when no one else would. And even if none of that was true, you’re my best shot of making that bastard pay for what he did to me. So yes, I trust you.”

“I would advise you not to,” said Cas. “But if you insist on trusting me, I want to promise you that I will do everything I can to get you out of this alive. Mary will find someplace safe for you to go.”

Kelly didn’t look like she believed that second part, but nodded anyway.

“Are you ready?” Castiel asked. Kelly nodded and Castiel led her out of where she was being guarded by Risa and Jo personally. “She said she would do it.”

“I didn’t even get to kick anyone’s ass,” said Risa flatly to Castiel, and he almost smiled despite himself. “Fine, leave. Just remember I believe in the afterlife and if either of you die right now I am going to live until I’m old and bitter and then personally make sure that both of you spend the rest of eternity listening to the ravings of an elderly woman.”

Jo looked at Risa with unrestrained admiration.

“What she said,” Jo added after a moment. “Also, Cas. We have stuff to talk about when this over.”

“We do?” asked Castiel. Jo nodded seriously.

“Yeah. Stuff,” she said, raising an eyebrow just a little. Castiel realized what she meant and glared at her.

“Here’s hoping for death,” said Cas, doing his best to sound ominous. Jo laughed at him, and Cas tried to stay angry at her but found himself hugging her tightly before returning to Kelly’s side. Jo gave him a little salute which he returned. Then he and Kelly made their way down the stairs.

“I can do this,” Kelly said to herself when they reached the bottom of the stairs. Cas nodded at her.

“Yes, you can,” he said. “And I’ll be with you the entire time.”

They walked out the doors and saw that Dean was waiting for them there with Benny and Gordon standing behind him, and a small guard consisting of Jess, Selma, and Lizzy for Benny and Kubrick, Betty, and Roy for Gordon. Despite knowing how skilled each of them were, it still seemed to small a force to Castiel, and he thought it a very poor choice to have Gordon as one of the two captains Dean had chosen to come along with him. Then again, Castiel thoroughly disliked Gordon, and perhaps he was being unfair.

“Okay, Cas,” said Dean. “Both you and Kelly, hands behind your back. We’ve got orders to shoot you if you don’t comply.”

That was the first part of the plan. No one could know who didn’t have to know. Risa, Jo and Kelly had been let in on the plan for obvious reasons, and Cas suspected that Benny knew everything if only because he was almost a little too rough tying Cas’ hands behind his back, like he was playing it up for the sake of anyone who might be watching. Dean did the same to Kelly, and he, on the other hand, was too gentle for someone trying to apprehend a hostage. Not that that wasn’t in character, Castiel thought to himself after a moment.

“You’re both coming with us to the trade off,” said Dean, next. “Turns out we get a better deal handing over four people than three, which means it’s your lucky day Castiel.”

That part was true. Castiel had told Dean exactly how to phrase it to make Castiel seem like a worthwhile bargain. The story was that the resistance had caught and locked up Castiel after having been sent on his suicide mission, and Dean had made very suggestive comments about what exactly Castiel knew about Naomi. Any information Azazel could use against Superbia would be wanted, and he’d have no qualms about torturing that information out of a supposedly half crazy ex-soldier.

Dean led Castiel and Kelly over to where Dagon and Ramiel were standing. Dagon was smirking at Kelly, and it reminded Castiel of the one time he had seen a bird eat a mouse. There was something smug in her expression that Castiel bristled against. He stepped in front of Kelly to block her from Dagon’s view.

“Did the freak get herself a boyfriend?” asked Dagon. “I guess it makes sense, considering from what I hear you’re just as screwed up as she is. You ever wonder if you’ve had a single thought that wasn’t put there for you, Mr. Tall, Dark, and Stoic?”

“Have you ever wondered what it might be like to burn alive?” asked Castiel back, as he might if he were commenting on the weather. Dagon’s smug smile didn’t slip, but something in her eyes got a little colder. “If we’re going to discuss fun hypothetical situations.”

“You really are crazy, aren’t you cupcake?” said Dagon. “It isn’t going to get better.”

“It never does,” Castiel confirmed with as much equanimity as he could muster. He felt a hand squeeze his forearm for a second before a gun was slipped up the sleeve of his jacket. He didn’t need to turn around to know that Dean had just fulfilled the next part of their plan, and if he did it would only draw attention to what Dean was doing. That didn’t mean he didn’t appreciate the silent moment of solidarity he had been shown. It was more than enough to take comfort in.

“You know what Kelly is, don’t you?” continued Dagon. “What you think you’re protecting?”

“A person.”

“She’s a lot more than that,” said Dagon. “She could take out everyone here with her hands tied behind her back, and considering what the situation is that would be pretty handy. The only reason she won’t is because the poor thing’s scared of what she can do.”

Castiel stopped answering at this point. Kelly stayed silent beside him, refusing to respond or even look at Dagon. She didn’t need to for it to be obvious that Dagon had rattled her. Her fists tightened behind her back, she took a deep breath and then stared ahead again, determined.

They were led to the center of the city, and Azazel’s headquarters in relative silence. The streets were much deader than usual, and anyone who saw them got out of their way without hassling them or even acknowledging them. Castiel had a feeling getting out wouldn’t be anywhere near this easy.

He grew more and more apprehensive as they walked through floor after floor of heavily armed guards to the highest floor of the tallest building in Ira. Azazel wasn’t one to take chances, especially when he didn’t need to. He knew he had the upper hand and that the resistance would do whatever necessary to ensure this cease fire.

Then again, just because he wasn’t a fool didn’t mean he couldn’t be fooled. When they reached the top floor, only Dean, Benny, and Gordon were allowed through with the hostages and only after disarming themselves and being patted down by the guards at the door. No one searched Castiel or Kelly, however.

“Take your time man, this is the most action I’ve seen in months,” Dean had joked while being searched, causing the guard who was searching him to curl his lip in mild disgust and mutter something about Dean ‘being that kind of way, huh’. Castiel frowned, thrown a moment by the guard’s reaction. Anna had always stressed state policy that they should treat anyone and everyone as citizens worthy of their respect, and hadn’t hesitated a moment when Benjamin had asked that he wear a men’s uniform instead of a women's, or that Susannah wore whichever uniform she felt more comfortable in that day. Obviously matters of sexuality, on the other hand, mostly weren’t discussed among soldiers, mainly because they were forbidden from being acted on, but Anna had always been clear that only a lack of consent or a lack of an ability to consent due to age or situation was what constituted a crime, not the gender one had sex with. Castiel had always assumed that it was much the same throughout the state. Previous commanders he’d had hadn’t stressed these points as much as Anna had, but they had still said them as part of official state policy.

When they were finally allowed to enter, Castiel struck the thoughts from his head to be reviewed later. He knew at some point he would have to ask someone which of his assumptions were wrong and which were right, and how different the world really was than he had thought, but not now. Now he had a responsibility to Kelly, who he had promised he would keep safe.

“Four hostages, just like you promised,” said Azazel. “Now that's good. I happened to hear you had a mishap with two of your more interesting assets.”

“I’ll try not to be offended by that,” said Ramiel, still seemingly uninterested in his surroundings.

“Rami, be a good boy and stay quiet. It’s what you do best,” said Dagon to her fellow hostage. “Think you can get us out of these, Azazel?”

Azazel’s eyes fell down to where he could see that Ramiel and Dagon were still tied up. He made a considering face and Castiel felt his hands begin to clench up. This was not part of the plan. Dagon and Ramiel being free to move and help in a fight stretched the odds too much for his liking. They had only just outnumbered Azazel’s men before this was a possibility, and they had one gun between all of them. Castiel hoped against hope Azazel would be vindictive.

“Let them go,” Azazel said after a moment. One of his guards went to cut the ropes from both Dagon and Ramiel. Ramiel immediately asked if he could leave and made some mention about going back to the lab and catching up on his reading. Dagon, on the other hand…

Castiel fell to his knees when she aimed a quick kick at the back of his legs. She pushed him over easily without him having his hands to help balance against the sudden change in momentum. As soon as he hit the ground she kicked him hard in the stomach, causing Castiel to curl into himself. It was only with great effort he didn’t let the gun he was holding up his sleeve fall out. Dagon aimed another kick lower down and between his legs, and Castiel couldn’t help shouting after that one.

“No one likes a traitor,” said Dagon, settling into a crouch so she could see Castiel better. She grabbed his chin when he tried shifting away from her. “It’s funny, though, that you really thought Naomi, of all people, was giving you a second chance. Do you want to know what she saw when she looked at you? A harmless moth that was too fucking pathetic for these idiot bleeding hearts not to take in. When she was trying to win us over to her side, she told us all about how she sent you in to kill the funny looking Winchester-“

“I object to that,” Dean said, his voice a little too high to pull off unconcerned. Dagon didn’t notice, but Castiel’s eyes immediately flicked to Azazel, who had sat up a little straighter at the mostly harmless comment. As Dagon kept up her taunting Azazel’s face grew calculating and Castiel knew instantly the plan was going very, very wrong.

“-because she thought you’d do it. Loyalty to the state if not to her, as she put it,” said Dagon. “But a little bird told me that that’s not quite where you stand. Something about sharing and caring and making a few too many new friends. She thought it was… interesting.”

Damn it, Castiel thought to himself. Meg. How he had missed her the first time he’d made a scan of the room, he couldn’t fathom (it might have had something to do with being kicked in the crotch by a vindictive Dagon) but there she was at Azazel’s right hand. Meg, who knew what Castiel had done to save Charlie and had known even before he had known himself how conflicted he was, which could only mean that Azazel knew too.

“Dagon,” Azazel spoke up, causing the woman to instantly pause. “You’ll have time to play with the mouse later. I’m finished with you for now.”

Dagon’s eyes flashed with anger, but she nodded with a controlled smile.

“Sure, Zaz,” she said. “If you have everything under control.”

Dagon left and Castiel kept his eyes down as he maneuvered himself into a more dignified position sitting on the ground. It was too late not to draw attention to himself, but he was doing his best anyway.

“You really do come across as a bit pathetic,” said Azazel. “Almost like a dog that’s just begging to be put down.”

Castiel didn’t look up.

“I can help with that,” Azazel decided at last. “New terms. I’ll give you your ceasefire, Winchester, if you personally put this poor excuse for a soldier out of his misery. Someone give Winchester a knife.”

“That wasn’t the deal,” said Dean. “We agreed I drop the hostages, and then we get out safe.”

“You asked to change our terms once already,” said Azazel. “My turn. Do as I say or face the consequences.”

“I’ll do it,” said Gordon, unsurprisingly. Castiel couldn’t quite manage to kill his impulse to turn around and glare at him. Gordon only stared impassively back.

“Shut up, Gordon,” said Benny. “We don’t murder unarmed prisoners.”

“He’s been a liability from day one,” said Gordon. “The only reason he’s not dead right now is-“

“You’ll give us the ceasefire?” Dean interrupted forcefully. Azazel nodded. “Fine. You’re shooting yourself in the foot as far as Naomi’s concerned, but hey. Whatever floats you boat. Want me to take out Kelly too while I’m at it?”

“I don’t think so,” said Azazel. “Just give the traitor a nice red smile across that pretty neck of his.”

Castiel was yanked up by an arm under his chin so he was on his knees. His head was pulled back and a knife pressed just so against his neck.

“I’m waiting,” said Azazel, sounding thoroughly entertained. Both he and Dean knew that Dean wouldn’t do it. That this was for show, and that they were both waiting for the other to back down first. After all, Azazel had Kelly now and if he could find a way to get out of honoring his agreement he would.

“On three,” Dean whispered in Castiel’s ear, too softly to be heard by anyone else. “One, two…”

Dean let go of him, slashed the ropes around his wrists, and pulled the gun from Cas’ sleeve, then pointed it at Azazel. Shock had just started to cross the mayor’s face when Dean pulled the trigger. Azazel slumped down in his seat. Castiel couldn’t see from where he was, but he had a feeling the back of his head was missing.

“Deal’s off,” said Dean, unnecessarily. Castiel managed to yank him off his feet before the shooting started.

“Get down,” he hissed. Looking for cover and knowing they didn’t have anywhere near enough time to find it. Luckily Gordon and Benny had taken out a guard each and were shooting back to distract from them which only left…

Castiel frowned.

“Dean where’s Kelly?”

The answer to that came when a man’s torn off arm landed a few feet from them. Castiel stared at it in a disassociated kind of horror. When he turned around he saw Kelly taking out each guard person by person, dodging the bullets from both sides. Gordon and Benny stopped shooting and ducked down as they watched her in awe, and not the good kind.

Only one person who used to be under Azazel’s command had the good sense to get out, and she made a run for it past where Dean and Castiel were crouched. Castiel stood up to chase after her, taking the gun from Dean’s hands.

“Stop,” he called after Meg. “Stop or I shoot.”

Meg stopped running and slowly turned, staring down the barrel of the gun.

“Killing my father wasn’t enough?” she asked, and it was only then he saw the cold rage in her eyes, warring with an obviously very strong self preservation instinct.

“I let you live.”

“Yeah, and if you’re lucky I’ll return the favor,” said Meg.

“I’m not letting you go this time.”

Meg eyes shifted to over his shoulder.

“I really think you’re going to have to.”

The second after she said that someone barreled into his side, tackling him to the ground just as a gun shot went off behind him. By the time he looked up after falling hard on his arm, Meg was long gone. Cas twisted and shot the offending guard without a second thought. She looked almost surprised to have a bullet tear through her throat.

Castiel did his best to keep his nausea at bay. Two lives he thought to himself. Two lives he’d taken ever, and this time he hadn’t even hesitated.

“Hey, now that you’re done being a gun slinger, mind lending me a hand or two?” gritted out the person next to him. Benny, Castiel thought. What was wrong came to him slowly, as though every piece of information had to go through thick glass before he could process it. Benny was bleeding. Benny had been shot. Benny had been shot saving him from being shot.

“You took a bullet for me.”

“Not really helping, Captain obvious,” said Benny. Cas nodded in realization and took off his coat and started applying pressure to where Benny had been hit to prevent him from bleeding out. For a moment it was Anna he saw bleeding beneath his hands, a thought that was so visceral he nearly lost it, but luckily Benny soon spoke and broke through whatever momentary mental lapse Cas had been experiencing by the power of sheer irritation.

“Do you have to press so hard?”

“Do you want to live?” Castiel snapped back.

Cas was fairly certain it wasn’t a fatal injury, barring any kind of infection and was relieved for more than one reason. It was embarrassing enough that Benny had saved his life, if he died to do it too, Castiel would have to be eternally grateful to someone he couldn’t stand.

“There’s some expression about a pot and a kettle that comes to mind with that one,” said Benny. Cas pressed down harder. “Is this what gratitude looks like from you?”

Castiel had a few dozen acerbic responses to that lined up when he was interrupted by Dean, who had a few bruises and scrapes from whatever he had been doing while Cas had chased after Meg. There was blood on the knife he was holding.

“Are you two seriously fucking fighting right now?”

“He started it,” said Cas before he could think better of it. Dean looked down, saw Benny had been shot and that was why he was still on the ground.

“Where’d you get hit?” he asked, face immediately going tight with concern.

“I’ll bounce back, Chief,” said Benny. “Honestly, it was worth it just to see the look on this fucker’s face.”

“I could carry him out,” Cas offered a second later, making Benny’s face twist in indignation. “It would be the least I could do.”

“Over my dead body.”

“You two are fucking killing me,” said Dean. “Cas, go take Kelly off of Gordon’s hands. She isn’t doing too hot right now. Gordon and I will help Benny out. Sam should have launched the offensive by now, which means with any luck we’re going to be able to get out without much trouble.”

“We didn’t stall for very long,” Castiel reminded Dean. We should wait-“

“They’ll have heard the gunshots,” Dean said. “That means Selma and Jo are having to hold their own out their with the others. You wanna leave them by themselves?”

Cas sighed and shook his head. He let Dean take over helping with Benny and made his way over to where Kelly was sitting, knees pulled up to her chest. Gordon sat next to her warily, though he did seem to be actually trying to comfort her somewhat.

“You got them,” Gordon said, referring to the dead bodies strewn across the room. Kelly continued to stare vacantly ahead of her. Castiel nodded at Gordon, who looked nothing but relieved to be taken off comforting a very dangerous woman after she had slaughtered a room full of people. He still managed to insert some kind of comment about Castiel’s number being up one of these days before he walked off, but that was at least in character.

Castiel knelt in front of Kelly. It took a few seconds, but she looked at him.

“I killed all those people.”

“Kelly-“

“I’m better than this,” said Kelly. “This isn’t me. This is what they made me. I’m not…”

Kelly’s eyes strayed to one of the men she had torn to pieces and shuddered.

“I’m not this.”

“We need to go, now,” Castiel said. Kelly nodded and let him help her up. “After this is over, leave. Disappear into the crowd.”

“They wouldn’t let me go, would they?” asked Kelly, eyes straying to where Dean and Gordon were currently helping Benny to his feet.

“I don’t think so,” said Cas. “But your life is yours now. You get to choose what you do with it. That shouldn’t be decided for you by a past that isn’t your fault. There are going to be a lot of lost people when the dust settles. You can be just another face. You can start over.”

Kelly understood. Castiel didn’t know what he thought gave him the right, but he was offering her absolution.

“Thank you.”

MARCH 30, 111 A.L. - IRA

“I was wondering where you were.”

“I thought you were afraid of heights,” Cas said, because he knew pointing out Dean’s weaknesses made him uncomfortable and Castiel had chosen this place specifically because he wanted to be alone. It was the middle of the night, and he knew if he went back to his room he would have to deal with Selma or Jo or Charlie coming and finding him and asking why he wasn’t celebrating. Ira had fallen in one fell swoop, and Castiel the mastermind behind it all.

If a year ago, someone had told him that this was his future… he would have laughed. He had changed so much in so little time, and trauma had had a large hand in how drastically that had happened.

“Well, I wasn’t planning on going up to the edge and taking a look down,” said Dean. “Is that why you’re on the roof?”

Dean wasn’t rising to the bait, which was bad news. It was highly likely telling Dean to fuck off wasn’t going to work right now.

“Mom agreed that looking for Kelly wasn’t going to be a priority,” Dean said when Castiel didn’t answer. “Figured that would make you happy. Maybe even get you to see your friends. They miss you.”

“I killed someone today. I’m not in a celebratory mood,” Cas said harshly, already knowing what Dean wanted from him. He wanted Cas to behave like everyone else, fall into line, and join the cause.

“Yeah, I get that. I mean I don’t get it, get it,” Dean said. “I don’t feel bad for shooting Azazel. But he’s-“

“The enemy,” said Castiel.

“Well yeah, that. But he was also hurting people,” said Dean. “And he wasn’t going to stop.”

“And you can absolve yourself of any guilt because of that?”

“No. But you can’t always win by turning the other cheek. And we need to win,” said Dean, not giving an inch. “Mind if I sit with you for a bit?”

“Yes,” said Castiel. “But I can’t make you leave.”

Dean sat down next to him and didn’t say a word. It was almost like being alone again, in a way. It was comforting. The problem was Castiel didn’t want to be comforted.

“Kelly gets to start over,” said Castiel. “I told her to start over and forget the past, and I hope she does, I really do. But then I remember that I can’t. I can’t wash away my sins, or forget what I was a part of, and I can’t even trust that what I’m doing now is right.”

“And it’s not fair,” Dean finished for him. “I know a thing or two about that.”

“I know,” said Cas. “I know that I’m not special and everyone is hurting and I need to get over myself-“

“That’s not what I said,” said Dean. “You’re not alone because everyone is hurting, and they understand how hard it can be. You don’t need to get over yourself, you just need to learn to let things go.”

“And that’s what you do?”

“Hell no. Don’t even know if I can. But it’s good advice, right?”

Castiel’s mouth twitched. He couldn’t quite help it.

“And there’s that smile,” said Dean. “Admit it. I’m good.”

“You’re good,” said Cas flatly. “I’m still not in a celebratory mood.”

“Fine by me. It’s kind of nice up here anyway,” said Dean. “All these stars.”

Castiel looked up. They were nice, he thought to himself. And not something he would have thought to look at had it not been pointed out to him.

“I hadn’t noticed.”

“Yeah, you have a habit of missing the forest for the trees. Don’t worry, it’s cute most of the time.”

“Cute?” Castiel asked flatly.

“Yeah. Cute,” said Dean with just a hint of a smirk.

“Is that what this is?” asked Castiel. “You think you can just… charm me into giving you what you want?”

“Depends on what exactly it is you think I want.”

“No one else here is stupid enough to sleep with you anymore,” said Cas. “And we have… whatever we have. It’s not a difficult conclusion to come to.”

“Wow. Ouch,” said Dean, over exaggerating it though Castiel could still tell that Dean felt a little stung by what he’d just said. “First of all, not true. I can list a dozen people stupid enough to sleep with me. Second of all, I didn’t see you complaining.”

“It was a new experience,” said Cas diplomatically. “I didn’t see any need to object at the time.”

It was a well placed jab, designed to undermine Dean’s cockiness about his sexual prowess without outright lying about whether or not he had enjoyed kissing Dean.

“You want to know what I think?” asked Dean. “I think you’re still in love with a dead girl and you’re taking that out on me because that’s easier than figuring out how to move on with your life.”

Then again, Dean was obviously better at figuring out sore subjects than Castiel was. 1-0 to Dean Winchester.

“Okay,” said Castiel dully. “I give up. Let’s have sex.”

“What- that’s not- No!” said Dean, sounding vaguely horrified.

“What? Don’t you want me?” Castiel asked bitterly, vaguely wondering if this was how Jo had felt when she’d propositioned him. Knowing you didn’t want sex for the right reasons, and likely it was a terrible idea, and still feeling upset and rejected for being turned down. He didn’t like it.

“Listen up and listen closely,” said Dean, anything playful gone from his expression. “If we ever have sex, and that doesn’t seem fucking likely to me, it’s going to be because you want to, not because you’re looking for new reasons to hate yourself.”

Dean stood up.

“I have to go. Have fun moping on a roof by yourself. You’re welcome for checking in on you.”

Cas sat there until morning, mostly out of spite. Dean sent Selma to get him, because he was smart and knew she was too reasonable for Castiel to ignore, and too determined to be distracted. He didn’t put up a fight when she told him he should get some sleep.

**********

“I haven’t seen you for a while,” said Castiel when he saw Anna sitting under the tree and reading his book of poetry. Not that Castiel didn’t periodically relive Anna’s death in his dreams, but that was more flashback than nightmare at this point. He’d become almost numb to it.

But he didn’t dream of Anna like this as much as he used to, likely because he wasn’t being exposed to drugs that could cause hallucinations. They’d stayed a long while after he’d been clean, but at last they had begun to taper off. He wondered for a moment if he should be worried that he was seeing her once again.

“I’m here when you need me,” said Anna cryptically. “And, dear God, do you need someone to help you.”

Castiel bristled at her tone. It wasn’t as if he didn’t know that he was being self destructive and hurtful to the people who cared about him. It wasn’t as if he wouldn’t stop if he could.

“The dead can’t help the living,” said Castiel. Anna raised an eyebrow and gracefully put the book down. She wasn’t dressed in white, or in her uniform. She was dressed like an average citizen. Almost as though she were just a person Castiel might have met, going about his daily business. If he had daily business.

“What else is being dead good for?” asked Anna. “And you do want help, Cas. This is your head we’re talking about. I’m here because you put me here.”

“My head isn’t all that objective or rational,” said Cas. “Forgive me if I have trouble trusting it.”

Anna stood up and walked toward Cas. He tried to shrink away from her when she put a palm on either side of his face, but eventually he let himself meet her eyes. She stood on her toes and bent his face down so she could kiss his forehead. It was almost a motherly gesture, and Castiel felt himself begin to shake with some deeply felt emotion he couldn’t name.

Anna pressed a hand against his chest.

“It’s okay to be broken,” she said. “And it’s okay to get better, too.”

“I need to keep-“ Castiel said, cutting himself off. “I can’t just forget the things I’ve done.”

“But you can forgive yourself,” Anna pointed out. “It’s not simple, or quick, or done all at once. Just remember, the victory is always in the trying.”

**********

APRIL 2, 111 A.L. - IRA

Garth Fitzgerald IV was the name of the newest doctor (dentist, Castiel thought to himself spitefully) that had been assigned to work as the official doctor in Dean’s militia. This would not have caught Castiel’s attention much if it hadn’t been “suggested” to him (by direct and strict orders from Dean Winchester himself) that he go and check in with Garth to make sure that he was “okay”.

Jo had been sent to reinforce this order, and Castiel had bristled even further under this treatment of him as though he were an unruly child. As though he couldn’t take care of himself and had to be shepherded from place to place.

“I’m moral support,” said Jo.

“I don’t need moral support for a check up,” said Cas. “I’m fine.”

“You sure sound fine,” said Jo. “You know, you still owe me that talk…”

“Drop it,” said Cas as they arrived at the new med hallway. It was dingy and obviously chosen for its easy access to the exits, so at least they’d learned their lesson there. “You can go now.”

“You know, you’re being a real dickhead right now,” said Jo. “I almost liked you better when you were just pretending you liked us.”

Castiel faltered. He knew he had come up to the line of admitting to Jo just how far from friendly intentions he had had when he first met her, but he’d never actually thought she knew just what he was trying to admit to.

“You- You knew about that?” he asked. Jo crossed her arms and shrugged.

“I’m not as dumb as I look,” said Jo. “Not that anyone notices.”

“Jo, no one thinks you’re dumb-“

“Yeah, sure they don’t. Everything’s rainbows and sunshine. You’ve got your shit together, and Charlie and I are going to work things out some day, and Azazel’s brain is still inside his skull,” said Jo. “I could go all day. Want to hear more lies, Cas?”

“Not really.”

“Yeah, me neither,” said Jo. “So when you’re ready, you come and talk to me. It might help, for whatever that’s worth to you.”

Jo left without much fanfare after that and Cas stayed in the hallway waiting for Garth to come and find him. It was only a minute or two before that happened and then Cas was whisked into a room and sat on one side of the desk while Garth was on the other.

“Hey,” said Garth with a friendly smile. “So I’ve got a few questions I want to ask you. Just let me know if you’re ever uncomfortable and want to skip any, okay?”

“Alright,” Castiel said hesitantly. He had been expecting something more along the lines of a quick check in than whatever was happening here.

“In the past two weeks,” said Garth. “How often would you say that you’ve felt uninterested in doing anything?”

“I don’t need a psych evaluation,” said Cas, and he saw Garth, who clearly thought he was being sneaky, slump a little. It didn’t last long, though because the next second Garth was meeting his eyes again and offering up a friendly smile.

“Okay, Cas,” said Garth. “I’m not going to make you do anything you’re uncomfortable with. We could just sit here and talk.”

“About what, exactly?” Cas asked, determined not to fall for whatever nice act Garth was trying to put on.

“Is there anything that’s been bothering you?” asked Garth.

“I’m not talking about Anna.”

Garth checked through his notes for a second before nodding and looking back at Cas.

“We don’t need to talk about her,” said Garth. “How about we start with how you’re feeling about me?”

“You’re nosy and taking up my time,” said Cas. “And I miss Dr. Newman.”

Garth began writing something down which just irritated Castiel more. He tried to lift himself in his chair a little to see exactly what he was saying and what damage control might have to be done when Garth looked up and noticed him. Cas sat back down.

“Are you still experiencing paranoia?” Garth asked sympathetically. He turned his notes around and showed them to Cas. “If you need to look.”

“I’m fine,” Cas said, though he did glance downwards for a moment. Mostly Garth had just written down what Cas had said and questions to ask next. Cas felt himself relax slightly, and Garth took his notebook back. “I’m sorry I insulted you.”

“What? Oh you mean about the nosy thing. That’s okay,” said Garth affably. “Everyone’s a little nosy. Didn’t take it as an insult.”

“It was meant as one,” said Cas, squarely shooting himself in the foot for no reason. Garth rolled his eyes. Castiel briefly wondered if Garth was actually human and, if so, where he’d learned his seemingly unlimited patience.

“You try really hard to get people not to like you,” he asked. “Why do you think that might be?”

Castiel shrugged and looked down at his hands that were resting on the desk. Garth waited and waited, and after a while Cas started to feel restless from it. Garth wasn't trying to get him to speak or poking at him, but Cas could still feel the current of expectation in the silence.

“I don’t feel trustworthy,” said Cas at last.

“Why don’t you feel trustworthy?” asked Garth next. Cas looked up again. “Yeah, I know what people have said about you. Lots of different versions of the story, but this isn’t to help me. This is to help you.”

“I don’t want help.”

“Then I guess you’re right about me wasting your time,” said Garth. “I can’t make you talk to me. If you leave now, I’ll tell Dean that you did fine, and let you go on as you are. Physically, you’re back up to fighting shape and gained back the weight you’d lost. You’re not having nightmares anymore. I know about the panic attacks, but those happen mostly when you’re in confined spaces, and Jess told me you have a plan to manage them. And I can’t offer you medication if you won’t work with me, so I guess you’re free to go.”

Cas hesitantly stood and looked back at the door and then back at Garth who was still sitting looking at him. Cas stayed where he was.

“There’s no shame in asking for help,” said Garth. “Or admitting that you need it. If we were in a fight with twenty guys, I wouldn’t make you sit out while I took them all on. If you’re… emotionally being beaten up by twenty guys, I can have your back.”

“Not a great analogy.”

“That’s fair,” said Garth, still refusing to take offense.

“If I wanted help,” said Cas. “What if I… What if I just don’t deserve it?”

“I could say there are a lot of people that would argue you do,” said Garth with a shrug. “And sometimes we need to forgive ourselves.”

“I do… want to get better,” said Cas, feeling hollow just by saying it out loud. It was as though the heavy pool of guilt he’d been carrying in his stomach had lightened, if only a little. He wasn’t sure whether or not he liked the feeling. Letting go of even a piece of it felt like cheating. He’d held onto his despair for so long, he didn’t know what it would feel like to just be happy again. He didn’t even know if he could do it, especially not when the world was showing no signs of being any less cruel than it had been.

“You look like you could use a hug,” said Garth, but before he could stand up, Castiel had taken a step back.

“No hugs,” he said. Garth shrugged and sat back down. Cas sat across from him and focused on breathing for a few seconds. “How do I even start?”

“I mean, you kinda just did,” said Garth, obviously trying to sound encouraging. Cas tried not to glare at him. “How about we start this over. Over the past few weeks, would you say you’ve felt uninterested in doing anything never, a few days per week, half of the days, or almost every day?”

“A few days,” Castiel answered, feeling a little numb as he did so. Garth asked more questions about his eating and sleeping habits, drinking habits, drug use, whether he had feelings of worthlessness or hopelessness, whether he had feelings of irritation or restlessness. Cas answered each of them honestly and Garth took notes, and then it was over.

“Aren’t you a dentist?” Cas asked when Garth was done and looking over his notes.

“I was,” said Garth. “I started auditing medical classes for fun a while back when my kids started going to school. Then I accidentally got mixed up with some trouble in Libidine and ended up patching up a resistance fighter named Jesse. It became a habit, patching up whoever was injured and needed help but couldn’t go to a hospital. Eventually, my wife, Bess, and I had a long conversation about it and decided to move with the kids to Ira, because things were starting to get bad in Libidine and we didn’t know who was going to end up on top.”

“If you’d stayed, you’d probably have been in less danger.”

“That’s true,” admitted Garth. “But Ira’s down too now, so I guess that just means five cities to go. Before this is all over.”

Cas swallowed. He didn’t like to think about that.

“It’s my fault that Ira fell,” said Cas.

“Do you still feel like a traitor?” asked Garth. Cas flinched. “Me too, man. Me too.”

“All you ever did was help people,” said Cas. “I’m responsible for so much death. Some days I don’t know how to live with myself.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel guilty about it sometimes,” said Garth. “I know I shouldn’t, I know that I love these people. They’re my friends. But it’s hard to shake learning that anyone who was resistance was just less than we were. I know it ain’t true, but sometimes I still catch myself thinking something awful and I have to remind myself that the world isn’t the way I was brought up to see it. The state has loyalty down to a science, and it’s a hard mentality to break out of.”

Cas nodded, grip tightening on his knees for a moment before he let go. He had a lot to think about after this talk with Garth, and knowing already that he’d agreed to talk with him again. Garth was going to consult with other doctors on whether or not Cas should be taking medication, but at the moment he didn’t think it was a good idea until he knew Cas’ system was completely clear of whatever Naomi had injected him with.

“Is there anything else you want to talk to me about?” asked Garth. Cas was about to shake his head when a thought occurred to him.

“How do you have sex?”

APRIL 3, 111 A.L. - IRA

Castiel left Garth’s office a little past midnight after having been given a much too thorough lecture on using protection, how to say no, how to say yes, that saying yes to one thing does not mean you have to go through with anything else, along with a description of a wide variety of sex acts that Castiel didn’t know existed. He had tried, at one point, to say that he wasn’t sure he needed to know quite that much, but Garth seemed to have taken it as his personal mission to make sure Cas didn’t leave the room without knowing everything there was to know about sex.

Despite wishing Garth hadn’t gone into quite so much detail, Cas was still glad he had asked him, if only because Garth hadn’t once made fun of him. Even before he knew specifically about soldiers being prohibited from having sex, he hadn’t made a comment about it being strange that Castiel would ask something like that.

He was still lost in thought when he ran right into Harriet, who was walking down the hall toward where Cas had just left. Garth had gone home for the night, and Cas passed this along to Harriet.

“I’m just here for an ice pack,” said Harriet with a sigh.

“Are you alright?” asked Cas out of worry. Harriet nodded.

“It’s not for me,” she said. “Someone thought it would be a good idea to break Gordon’s nose.”

Cas was just the slightest bit biased in agreeing that that was a very good idea, even though he would never do it himself.

“Who did that?” asked Cas. Harriet opened the doors to one of the rooms, and Cas was surprised to see Jo sitting next to Benny and chatting with him while she sat on top of what appeared to be some kind of freezer. Benny was a mixture of amused and irritated, while Jo seemed not to know quite how to feel about whatever they were talking about. The instant they saw Harriet and Cas enter the room.

“Officially?” Harriet said, pretending she didn’t notice Benny and Jo both falling silent and turning to look at them. “He fell.”

“You’re not going to tell him?” asked Benny, crossing his arms and wincing as his stitches stretched. Cas wondered if it was ungrateful to hope that that had hurt.

“I’m just here for something cold,” said Harriet. “Garth is sleeping for the night and Emily hasn’t come down to cover the night shift yet. I know Garth moved the freezer into this room so he could ice your sprained shoulder.”

Benny growled at being reminded that he was injured. Jo, on the other hand got off of the freezer to hand Harriet the ice pack, which was accepted gratefully. Harriet was just about to leave, when Castiel stopped her briefly.

“I never said,” he began, trying to swallow his hesitation. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

Deep sadness filled Harriet’s eyes and she patted Castiel lightly on his shoulder.

“Boris would have wanted me to go on,” she said, almost as though she were trying to comfort him instead of the opposite. “Thank you.”

She left without another word.

“Is she okay?” Castiel asked Jo. Jo shook her head sadly, and then tugged Cas down to sit with her on the freezer. He didn’t resist and ended up sitting there and watching as Benny looked him up and down. “I haven’t thanked you for saving my life.”

“Please don’t,” said Benny, lazily stretching back on the hospital bed. “It was self preservation, really. If I’d let you die, I’d be the one with a messed up face right now instead of Gordon, and I can’t have that happen. The world’s lost enough works of art as it is.”

Castiel’s mind starting turning its gears at that sentence.

“You’re so full of it, LaFitte,” said Jo, but she was smiling. “Stay in that bed as long as you want, though, because you’ll never guess who’s been assigned temporary captain in your place.”

“Harvelle, at long last,” said Benny, sounding genuinely happy to hear this. “Took Dean long enough. Then again, if I had Ellen breathing down my neck, I don’t know I would’ve done much different.”

“Why would your face be messed up?” Castiel interrupted at last, giving up figuring it out himself.

Jo laughed.

“Let’s just say the attack on Gordon was motivated by certain comments,” said Jo. “Something about state soldiers being worth more dead than alive, with one in particular coming up.”

“Did Selma punch him?” asked Castiel. “That doesn’t sound like her.”

“It was Dean, you idiot,” said Benny incredulously. “You are unbelievably dim witted, anyone ever told you that?”

“Only you. Repeatedly,” said Cas back. “It’s fine, I tend to disregard the majority of what you say in any case.”

“It was kinda awesome,” Jo said. “God, I wish someone else had been there to see Dean sock him. Walker was just so fucking surprised after it happened.”

“I do wish I’d seen it,” said Benny. “Maybe he finally knocked Gordon’s head on straight. I still can’t believe Dean let him stay on as captain after what he tried to do to Trisha.”

“Gordon gets results,” Jo pointed out. “We’d be dead five times over without him.”

“Yeah, but what happens when we don’t need results anymore?” asked Benny. “Does Gordon seem like the kind of person who’s just going to stop looking for a fight?”

“I don’t like him either,” said Jo. “Not a ton of people do. Well, except Kubrick, not that that’s much of an endorsement. The thing is we do need him.”

“I guess,” said Benny, still not sounding thrilled. “I just have a tough time trusting someone that’ll stick a knife in you the second he thinks something is off. Call me boring, but I prefer a bit more predictability in my life.”

“Amen to that,” said Jo. “I bet he’s going to leave Cas alone for a while after this though. This is strike two if Dean’s been counting, considering he seriously considered getting rid of Gordon the first time he went after one of our own.”

“Not seriously enough,” said Benny. “Just don’t tell him I said that. Not in the mood for a fight.”

“You and Dean never fight,” said Jo. “I mean it, I can’t remember him ever even yelling at you.”

“It’s a gift and a curse,” said Benny. “I gotta admit I cut him slack, even when I shouldn’t. Then again… someone has to. You, Sam, the soldier, Bobby, Mary, yada yada, y’all are always busting his balls.”

“Dean’s not six,” said Jo. “I think he can handle us.”

“Sure he can,” said Benny. “But I can handle myself, so best I can I try not to add to the pile, because that man has been through enough.”

Castiel half remembered a hazy description of what it had been like in the prison Dean had been in at eighteen. It hadn’t sounded pleasant, and even as sick as Cas had been when he had heard that, he had had the feeling he still hadn’t been through the kind of hell Dean had.

“How long was he there?” Cas asked, looking at Benny. It didn’t take long for Benny to figure out what he meant.

“One year.”

“It took him only one year to convince you to help him escape?” asked Cas. “How exactly did that happen?”

“Took him less time to get you to turn your back on the state,” said Benny, smiling a little when he saw Cas bristle. “And none of your fucking business.”

“He didn’t…” Castiel started, not wanting to finish the sentence. Benny’s smile dropped as he realized the implication.

“No,” said Benny. “I don’t know what kind of man you think I am, Castiel, but I’m not that.”

“I didn’t mean it like-”

“I know how you meant it,” said Benny. “I’m just telling you that I know when to keep my hands to myself. You really want to know what Dean offered me to help him get out? A new start far away from that hell hole, and hell if I knew if he was going to follow through with that. I probably would’ve deserved it if he’d slit my throat on the way out. I hoped I could get out along with him, and figured if I died trying that was about what I was owed.”

“You love him,” Castiel said, causing Jo to suck in a sharp breath and jab her elbow into his side. Benny’s expression didn’t change.

“So what?” asked Benny. “Don’t mean a thing in the long run. Just ask Jo how much love is worth.”

“Fuck off,” said Jo bitterly. She didn’t deny it though, and the way her eyes fell to the floor betrayed the deep pain she still felt over Charlie.

“Anyways, I ain’t his type,” said Benny. “The people Dean goes for: Gordon, Lydia, you, y’all have something in common. You’re all just this side of crazy. It’s not a fucking mystery why Dean likes you so much. I mean, you met him and punched him in the face and he laughed it off. Couldn’t believe you had the nerve, and you haven’t stopped pulling dumb stunts since.”

“Says the man who jumped in front of a gun to save someone he hates,” said Castiel.

“Trust me, the fact it bothers you so much is worth the price of admission,” said Benny.

“Boys, boys, you’re both pretty,” said Jo. “And you’re both my friends, so try to keep the hostility to a bare minimum while I’m in the room. Hey, I know what’ll help.”

Jo pulled a flask up and showed it to both Benny and Cas, both of whom took a marked interest.

“How wasted do you think we can get before Emily checks in on Benny?” asked Jo. “I don’t do heartache sans booze, so you either take me up on this, or I’m out and off to drink by my lonesome.”

“Pass it,” Cas said without hesitation, grievances and uncomfortable conversation with Benny forgotten. He nearly choked when he tried to take a long swallow and realized the alcohol was much stronger than he was used to. He played it off and took another swallow, feeling it burn on the way down before passing it to Benny. Jo took it last and took a few sips.

Emily wasn’t pleased when she checked in and found out that they were all very intoxicated. She let out a deep sigh and muttered something about what Peter Newman would say. That significantly lowered the mood in the room, and Jo and Castiel said a quick goodbye to Benny before drunkenly heading off in the direction of Cas’ room and then falling asleep.

The sleep was dreamless for Cas, thankfully, though he woke up with a throbbing headache and heard Jo on the verge of crying from where she’d curled up on a not very amused Selma’s bed. Selma pet Jo’s head slowly and glared at Castiel until he got up and pretended to be fine long enough for Selma to leave Jo to get on with her day.

“Are you alright?”

“Your voice is not doing a fucking thing for my hangover,” said Jo. “Why are the lights so bright?”

“To spite you,” Castiel said sagely, letting Jo hide her head into his side. “Why are you crying?”

“I’m not,” said Jo. “Fuck you.”

“Jo.”

“And if I was crying, it’s because I’m still a little drunk,” said Jo. “And I’m looking for the off switch for my fucking emotions. Do you know how awful it looks every time I fall apart because Charlie fucking Bradbury won’t give me the time of day? I’m supposed to be a temporary captain now, and what do I do? Get drunk with my two loser friends-“

“Hey,” said Castiel mildly offended.

“-who spend the entire time moaning about Dean Winchester, and I can’t even pretend I’m better than you and Benny because half the time I’m doing the same fucking thing about her,” finished Jo. After the rant was off her chest, she seemed to lose steam, and her voice became a lot quieter. “She doesn’t love me, Cas.”

“I’m sorry,” said Castiel, gently patting Jo’s shoulder. He wished he could make things better for her, or promise her that she would find someone else or Charlie would change her mind, but he was woefully ill equipped to do so. Instead of offering unwelcome lies or halfhearted reassurances, Cas kept silent and sat through Jo’s moment of weakness, because she deserved solidarity even if he couldn’t offer her comfort. At long last, Jo sat up straight and roughly brushed away any remaining tears from her face.

“I’ve got a job to do,” Jo said at last, shaking off the last remnants of vulnerability on her face and slipping into her usual tough as rocks persona. “People to boss around. Hey, including you.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Cas, just to be annoying. Jo hit him in the head, which caused him to wince as he still had a rather bad headache. They both got to their feet unsteadily and Jo clutched her stomach a moment before visibly gaining control of herself and refusing to be sick.

“Today is going to suck major balls, isn’t it?” she said sadly. Cas nodded grimly at her, and the two walked toward the door as though they were on their way to an execution.


	9. Sweetest in the Gale (Part 3)

APRIL 11, 111 A.L. - IRA

Cas had spent the day before this meeting helping to clear debris and pass out food to former citizens of the state who were understandably wary of them. There had been more than one attempt to take out resistance members by any soldiers who had evaded death or capture, or even just people who supported the state and were trying to retake the city.

It would probably worse if Mary hadn’t immediately ceded power to Joshua, and public announcements of this had been widely broadcasted through all state communication systems. Although officially Joshua was a traitor of the state, he was still remembered among most adults as a well liked politician prior to his fall at Azazel’s hands, and the trust he’d amassed during that time had held well during that time, if only because Azazel was not well liked and Irans were not the most state positive city in the first place, unlike Invidia and Lucrum.

Cas had only had to deal with dirty looks so far, the gun at his hip keeping the people he was handing food to from trying anything. Some looked genuinely grateful for what had happened, but most were scared of what was going to happen now. The state was far from perfect but it was still stable and considering how unlikely these recent victories had seemed even a year before, Castiel doubted anyone in the resistance had actually put much thought into how things were going be run when they won.

His conversation with Mortimer came back to mind, and he almost wondered if he shouldn’t have taken the man more seriously. He was right that leaders in times of war wouldn’t necessarily be suited to create the rules of a new society. How could they forget the atrocities that had been done to them? Should they even? And if not, what did that mean for people like Castiel or Balthazar or Hannah, or any of the other soldiers who had fought against them for so long.

Castiel glanced to his left and caught sight of an angry glare in his direction. So he wasn’t the only one not paying attention to Joshua’s speech of gratitude for their help. Gordon’s nose had in fact been broken, and he now had a bandage across his nose and was apparently hoping he could cause Cas to drop dead out of sheer will alone.

Gordon was a few seats away, which made it hard to ignore him. Cas had taken his seat next to Jo, and she and Rufus were the only two people acting as a buffer from Gordon’s malevolent glare. Castiel did the equivalent of a mental shrug and turned to look to his right, where Risa, Linda, and Tamara were sitting. Risa and Tamara were paying attention, if only superficially, but Linda looked bored to tears and was openly knitting a hat. She caught Cas looking at her.

“Jason’s birthday is coming up,” she said, then went back to knitting. “And Kevin’s is next month. I’m going to make him socks.”

Risa gave up pretending to pay attention.

“Linda,” she said quietly. “Why is Kevin here?”

“Dean asked for the whole tech team,” said Linda back. “Don’t know why.”

Most of the rows of chairs were taken up with Mary’e people, but Castiel hadn’t failed to notice that Charlie, Sarah, Frank, and Kevin were all sitting there too. Sam, Dean, Eileen, and Mary were in the front row, and were likely going to be speaking. A woman named Mildred, who Castiel had heard about in snippets from other people was sitting with Eileen and signing to her everything Joshua was saying. Eileen signed back a question once, and Mildred answered it quickly before going back to relaying what Joshua was saying.

Castiel stopped looking around and tried to tune back into Joshua’s speech, only to hear that it was mercifully ending.

“…we are going to win this war,” said Joshua. “Because we must. We are tired, we are angry, and we want this incredible world we live in to change for the better. Remember why you’re fighting, and rising up to fight another day will not be a burden, but a privilege.”

The room clapped enthusiastically for him. Castiel did not.

After Joshua was done speaking, he yielded the floor to Mary who walked up with Dean close on her heels.

It was a surprise when Dean started speaking first.

“Listen up, because this is important for everyone,” said Dean, looking around until he was sure he had the room’s attention. “I know we’re all used to the way things have been here, but that ain’t going to work with our new strategy which means whatever you think your job is right now, that might not be your job tomorrow.”

Murmurs started going through the crowd. Cas looked to Eileen and Sam who seemed unsurprised by this statement.

“What do you think is going on?” Cas asked Jo quietly. Jo shrugged but looked intrigued. She’d been doing a good job as Captain, albeit for only a week. Dean had chewed her out for her hangover the first day, but since then he’d had nothing but positive things to say about her work. Not that Castiel knew this first hand, considering Dean only dealt with him through intermediaries like Jo or Selma to remind him to keep seeing Garth, which had the effect of making Castiel want to stop going to their daily meetings if only to spite Dean.

“I know a lot of you see my mom and I as running separate operations,” said Dean. “And in effect, sure that’s pretty much right. Unfortunately, that’s not going to work if we want to take out Invidia and Superbia, which are next on our hit list.”

Castiel felt his stomach drop. He’d hoped Superbia would be the last city they went after, and perhaps that Naomi would smartly surrender and spare the lives of the soldiers under her command. But with over half of the cities still under state control, Superbia would fight to the last man.

For a moment, bloodied faces swam before his vision. Hael with a bullet wound between her eyes. Susannah and Benjamin with their throats slashed. Balthazar and Hannah fallen and bleeding to death.

“I’m going to be leading the force into Invidia and meeting up with our forces from Sanctus,” said Mary. “Sam will be staying here with a force large enough to defend our claim over Ira. That means some of you will be staying here, and some of you will be leaving. We are going to do our best to prioritize anyone who asks, especially those with families or young children, be assigned to stay with Sam, but we can’t make promises.”

“Last big thing before we get into the details,” said Dean. “I’m going to be leading a smaller force into Canada so we can converge on Superbia. Hopefully we’ll be able to convince Cro- his majesty to spare some people to help us out with that. I’m still deciding who’s going to be going, but I will be leaving in the next few days. Jo and Risa, you’re both definitely going. Charlie, same thing. Everyone else will be notified in the coming days.”

“Frank, you’re going to be working with me from here on out,” said Mary. “Kevin and Sarah, you’ll be staying here in Ira. Everyone who used to work under Ash is going to be split up evenly.”

The meeting went on as they discussed more details about exactly what would be happening in the upcoming days. After about an hour of this, everyone was dismissed. Jo was practically bouncing off the walls.

“I fucking told them all I could do it,” she said, grin splitting her face. “God, my mom is going to be so pissed when she hears about this.”

“You shouldn’t sound so happy about that,” said Dean, who’d caught sight of Jo’s vicious excitement. “I’m a dead man, Jo.”

“It’s amazing how bad I don’t feel for you,” said Jo. Dean rolled his eyes at her before glancing over to Cas. He cleared his throat and raised an eyebrow at Jo. Jo noticed and stopped buzzing with energy immediately.

“I’m going to go talk to Risa,” said Jo, ignoring Castiel’s wide eyed and silent plea that she not leave him alone. She shrugged at him and left, after which Dean made escape all but impossible by stepping closer before Castiel could think of some excuse to leave.

“Listen,” Dean said. “I know maybe I made things weird, and I’m sorry about that. The thing is, if we’re going after Superbia we need as much intel as we can get and I know you’re old garrison is in Superbia right now. Charlie thinks she can get a message to them when we’re closer to Superbia.”

Castiel’s eyes were glued to the floor.

“What are you asking from me?”

“I want you to call them up and have them tell us anything we need to know,” said Dean. “Like what kind of weapons they’re willing to use, where they’re stationed, what’s been weakened since Zachariah moved his forces in-“

“They won’t tell me,” said Cas instantly. He wasn’t entirely sure this was true, but he really did not want to do what Dean had just described. That was not self defense in any meaning of the word. Whatever shred of connection Castiel could claim to his old life would be irreparably broken if he were to as Dean asked.

“I’m pretty sure they will,” said Dean. “Intel from within Superbia says soldiers aren’t exactly excited to be shooting at each other instead of us. I think they’d almost appreciate a coup at this point.”

“Can I say no?” asked Cas.

Dean frowned at him, obviously not liking the implication.

“You can always say no. But it would save a lot of lives on both sides if you agreed to help,” said Dean. “I need to know in the next three days. Oh, and if you say yes, ask Jo to find you a better coat. It’s fucking cold in West Canada this time of year.”

APRIL 15, 111 A.L. - 50 MILES OUTSIDE MCCLEOD CITY, WEST CANADA

West Canada was, in fact, very cold.

In the majority of the state, it didn’t get cold enough to ever even snow. Although Castiel vaguely knew this wasn’t a good thing and that there was a dedicated group of scientists looking into changing this, he was guiltily glad about it on a personal level. He shivered violently as they set up camp for the night in a long abandoned camping ground before their last night of driving to McCleod.

Jo poked her head into the tent he had set up and grinned when she saw that Castiel was huddled miserably on the floor with his coat wrapped around his knees.

“You really don’t like the cold,” she observed. Cas glared at her and tugged his knees in tighter. “You know, it might snow tonight.”

“I hate everything.”

“That’s not exactly out of character,” Jo said. “We were all going to have a game of poker, if you’re willing to face the big bad outdoors.”

“So you can all figure out how mediocre I actually am at poker?” asked Castiel. “No thank you.”

“Dean’s playing.”

“Should I repeat no thank you, but more vehemently?” asked Castiel. Jo walked over to her bag of things and grabbed a blanket before going over to Cas and offering it to him. He took it and Jo sat down next to him.

“Can I ask?” she said after Cas had seen her start to shiver a little as well and begrudgingly shared the blanket.

“I offered to sleep with Dean and he turned me down, and I don’t like how that makes me feel,” said Cas. He paused a moment. “That’s not entirely true, it was more complicated than that. I insulted him, he mentioned Anna, and I propositioned him out of spite and got upset when he said no.”

Jo just sat there for a second.

“You’re making your life so much harder than it has to be,” she said.

“It’s a gift of mine,” said Cas. “Garth thinks I have self destructive tendencies that are exacerbated by a depressive episode. I think he’s not licensed to diagnose mental disorders, but finding someone who is and is willing to help anyone in the resistance is-“

“Like finding a snowball in hell,” finished Jo. She thought silently for a moment. “Therapy sessions aside, both Sam and Benny confirmed when I asked that you and Dean have, uh, done the horizontal tango.”

“If that’s a euphemism for sex, then no,” said Cas. He hesitated a moment before adding: “Just a kiss.”

“Sam said you weren’t wearing any clothes when he walked in and he was scarred for life.”

“I wasn’t wearing a shirt,” Castiel corrected. “And Sam didn’t even see anything.”

Jo frowned thoughtfully.

“You really haven’t fucked him yet?” she said. “It really, really isn’t that hard. He’s into you, and he thinks sex is like God’s gift to mankind. You could just try not being an asshole for five seconds.”

“Or I could continue to efficiently ignore him and stay warm here until we leave this godforsaken country behind us,” said Cas.

“Will you come to poker if I let you keep the blanket?”

“Do I have to play?” Cas asked at last. Jo shook her head. “Fine. But I don’t want to talk to anyone.”

“Good luck with that,” said Jo, dragging Cas to his feet and mocking him as he sullenly left the tent to sit at the table that had been set up next to a fire that Risa was tending to. Jo sat at the table where anyone who wanted to play was setting up. Charlie had a notebook in hand, and no one put drugs on the table to bet, so Cas suspected that they were going by a point system and winner got-

Dean put a bottle of old whiskey in the middle of the table.

“Rufus is going have an aneurysm that he didn’t get a shot at this,” said Cordelia, eying the bottle with what could most appropriately be labeled as lust. She was one of seven players, as it appeared Charlie would only be keeping track of who was winning. The other players were Jo, Dean, Trisha Walker, Jason Tran, Dorothy Baum, and Rosali Hernandez.

Castiel did not know Rosali very well, aside from knowing she was an excellent marksman and that Rufus had pitched a fit when Dean had swiped her from him. Rufus and Linda were staying in Ira under Sam’s command, while Tamara and Gordon were going to be under Mary’s command and were preparing to head out to Invidia within the week.

Cas had glimpsed at one point Sam and Tamara standing together, foreheads pressed together while they talked about missing each other. It had been almost bizarre, seeing two people that had been so hostile to him being entirely gentle with each other, and he had walked past them before either of them could notice him. He wasn’t entirely comfortable having witnessed something that seemed so intimate between the two of them. Apart, he wasn’t sure if he would have thought either of them capable of such affection.

“Anyone else want in?” asked Dean loudly, breaking Cas from his thoughts. “George? Laurence? Maggie?”

“I don’t gamble,” said George Tanner with a shake of his head. George had once been a farmer, and had the strong build and almost inhuman patience to prove it. “If I’m going to ask the universe for luck, I’d rather save up my favors for when I need them.”

Laurence, a short man with friendly eyes and a perpetual grin shook his head as well. Maggie looked tempted, but a glance at the other players was enough to sway her choice to a firm no.

“Not really up for an asskicking tonight,” she said. “Corbett, you wanna play?”

Corbett shook his head. Castiel watched as Dean looked between the two of them, clearly looking for signs of discontent. It still bothered him that they had almost deserted, and Castiel wondered if that wasn’t a big reason for him choosing to include them in this mission. Then again, it could just be that Mary had wanted anyone with the potential to cause trouble taken out of the picture. It seemed a little suspicious that the key orchestrators of Kelly’s escape (namely Castiel, Jo, Risa, Maggie, and Corbett) had all been sent off into the desolate (in Castiel’s somewhat biased mind anyone) and frigid country they were now in.

It could be an innocent coincidence, he supposed.

“Cas?” Dean asked next, looking right at him.

“No thank you,” Cas grumbled. Jo tugged a little at his blanket and he glared at her until she stopped. Selma, who didn’t gamble, had said she was going to sleep so she could drive in the morning. Cas noticed a disappointed look from Dorothy in Selma’s direction, though she seemed to get over it quickly. Soon enough the game had begun.

It was clear almost immediately that Trisha and Dean were the best players at the table. Castiel had suspicions this was because both of them were cheating. Dean was cheating especially well, though.

He ended up winning handily, to much grumbling from his underlings.

“If Harriet was here, she might’ve given him a run for his money,” muttered Jo, who watched with barely concealed envy as Dean took the bottle of whiskey and presented it to Charlie, who rolled her eyes and accepted.

“I am going to share guys,” she said when she found herself the center of concentrated collective hatred. “Seriously, you all need to chill.”

She opened the bottle, took a sip and then passed the bottle onto Jo who squinted at her suspiciously before taking a swig of her own. Jo passed it to Cas and Cas to Corbett, who had ended up sitting next to him, and Corbett to Risa, and so on until all of them were pleasantly buzzed, but not drunk. This had the welcome effect of making Cas feel somewhat warmer.

As this happened, Charlie got progressively more friendly with Jo, whose eyes narrowed more and more every time Charlie made an effort to smile at her or make her laugh. At about a half an hour till midnight, Jo excused herself, firmly giving Charlie the cold shoulder.

Everyone else did their best to ignore the uncomfortable situation. Charlie didn’t seem to take well to being rejected, but tried to cover for it by being even more lively than usual. It was only when she took her turn talking Cas’ ears off that he realized how long it had been since he’d spent a significant amount of time with her, partly because of Jo, and partly because Charlie was frequently inseparable from Dean, whom Castiel had taken to avoiding at every opportunity.

Charlie had brought Crookshanks with her and asked if Cas wanted to play with the cat. Castiel was tempted to say yes, but a brief moment spent thinking about how Jo would react to that and whether she would assume Cas was taking a side had him carefully turning her down. If the deeply disappointed look Charlie gave him was anything to go by, she knew exactly what he was doing.

“I’m sorry,” Cas had added guiltily at the end. “I should go to sleep.”

Castiel ungracefully extracted himself from his place between Corbett and Charlie, who immediately started talking to each other in whispers and likely about him. Cas didn’t look back and instead went to the tent he was sharing with Selma, Jo, and Jason.

Jo looked relieved when he got back.

“My blanket, Cas,” she said reaching out her hand. Cas stared at her woefully. “Dude, come on.”

“Perhaps we could come to an agreement.”

“You cannot be that cold, you asshole,” said Jo. Selma lifted her head from her pillow to glare at both of them.

“I’m sleeping,” she murmured. “And I’m well armed.”

Castiel remembered how accurate Selma was with a knife and made a concerted effort to speak more quietly.

“If I were to keep the blanket-“

“No. Give it back,” said Jo. Cas let out a deep sigh and gave it to her before going to his own sleeping bag. Somehow no matter what he couldn’t keep the cold air from getting in. Fifteen minutes later his teeth were chattering loud enough that Jo let out a frustrated sigh.

“You are such a baby,” she said. She unzipped her sleeping bag and Castiel didn’t hesitate to crawl in next to her. “No funny business.”

“I’m not attracted to you, Jo.”

“Ouch. That’s just hurtful,” said Jo, rolling her eyes all the while. “At least pretend you’re tempted.”

“I hate both of you,” mumbled Selma from her sleeping bag.

“Out of curiosity,” said Jo next. “You kinda wanna sleep with Dean and there was something with Anna, whatever that was. I get that you don’t wanna talk about it. I just gotta wonder… Is that it for you being into people? Even just like a passing thought?”

Castiel thought about it.

“I don’t know,” he said at last. “For the most part I just don’t… think about it. Mandy was also… interesting, I suppose.”

“I mean, you don’t ever see someone and think, ‘wow, I wish I could do things to that person’?” Jo pressed.

“Do people normally think like that?”

“Depends,” said Jo. “I mean, like sometimes people’s sex drive is lacking and that can be a temporary thing. The thing is not everyone is into sex, and some people think it’s gross or just really don’t want to have it, which is all good, too. But the majority? Yeah, they meet someone and they think to themselves ‘I would hit that’. You wanna know how many guys think a smirk, some black market booze, and a good once over will get me into bed with them?”

Castiel did not want to know.

“We weren’t supposed to have sex, so I didn’t think much on the topic. And we didn’t talk about it, so I assumed that was normal,” said Cas after mentally recoiling at Jo’s implication that some people truly just expected sex from strangers, as though it were some kind of game that could be won. “It wasn’t ever even a problem until… in the last few months before she died… I saw Anna and I…”

Castiel trailed off trying to find words.

“Wanted,” Jo supplied quietly.

“It was terrifying,” said Cas at last. “I didn’t know what to do with it. And then she died.”

Jo frowned in thought. She seemed on the cusp of saying something when Selma broke into the silence.

“Did you love her?” Selma asked, sounding more awake than she had before. Whatever Jo had been thinking up she left unsaid, forcing Castiel to contemplate this question. Because no one had asked before, they had all just assumed.

“I don’t know,” Cas said at last. “Maybe I could have if things were different.”

Selma accepted this answer.

“Do you love him?” she asked next.

“Dean?” asked Castiel. Selma nodded. “There wouldn’t be a point.”

“That’s not how it works,” said Selma with a sad smile. “If it was, I don’t think anyone would fall in love at all. It’s never convenient.”

“Yeah, that’s one way of putting it,” muttered Jo. “Y’know what? I think that's enough of a downer for one night. All those for sleep say aye.”

“Aye,” said Cas, Selma, and a second male voice a second late that Cas recognized as Jason, who had come through the tent flap as Jo had spoken and crawled into his own sleeping bag. Laurence, Betty, and Carl weren’t far behind, and after fifteen minutes or so everyone in the tent had fallen asleep. Halfway through the night, Dorothy came to wake up Carl so she could take her shift sleeping while he was on watch, but aside from waking that once, Castiel had a surprisingly restful night.

APRIL 16, 111 A.L. - MCCLEOD CITY, WEST CANADA

“So one more thing,” said Dean after going through a list of things they could and could not do while in McCleod city, most of which involved stroking the king’s ego and Cas’ least favorite of which was that his majesty expected them all to bow when introduced to him. “From now on, if anyone asks, Charlie and I are engaged.”

Castiel continued being annoyed about having to cater to some asshole’s ego for a few more seconds before this statement hit him.

“Wait, what?” he heard himself saying. Everyone looked at him, then looked back toward Dean. No one else seemed surprised. “Am I missing something?”

“So the thing is-“ Jo started.

“What did I say about talking about that,” said Dean, voice going a little higher pitched than it normally did. “Cas, none of your business. If one of Crowley’s people asks you, Charlie and I are engaged, got it?”

“Crowley?” asked Castiel in genuine confusion.

“His highness, I mean,” said Dean. Jo snickered. “You wanna be demoted, Harvelle?”

Jo stopped instantly.

“I thought the king’s name was Fergus McCleod,” said Cas.

“Cas, I know for a fact you know how to take a hint,” said Risa. Cas stopped asking questions, and Dean threw a grateful glance Risa’s direction. “Alright, congrats to the happy couple. What’s the strategy we’re going for in terms of winning him over?”

“We’re offering splitting the territory currently under Superbia’s control with Canada,” said Dean. “Crowley would kill for better land to reward his higher ups with. Inspires loyalty or whatever. Other than that, just your standard asskissing. Who needs pride when you’ve got a war to win?”

Everyone nodded.

“Alright, over and out,” Dean said. Somehow, Castiel got boxed out of the car with Selma and Jo and ended up riding with Dean, Charlie, and Risa. Charlie was in a bad mood, for whatever reason, and was pointedly not looking at Cas. Or speaking to him. Cas tried to puzzle out why, wondering if she were really that upset by him turning down her offer to play with Crookshanks earlier. The cat was now on his lap and purring loudly, which if anything just seemed to make Charlie ignore him harder. Neither Risa nor Dean said anything about it, but Cas had no doubt they could feel it too.

They arrived in the city by mid afternoon. The architecture had the appearance that it was designed by someone who was told to create something intimidating, but had strayed too far into bland and ugly. The people who walked in the streets were lively enough, and most seemed to recognize who they were, though they hardly reacted to it except to look disdainfully at Dean, a reaction he seemed to be willfully ignoring.

Once they finally arrived at the even uglier palace, they were told to wait there for the king to receive them. In the cold. Castiel’s opinion of “his majesty” was falling lower and lower by the second. As the time stretched to almost an hour of waiting, the entire group was speaking casually to each other. All except Charlie who was quietly giving staring at Jo. It wasn’t long until Jo noticed and started staring back. Castiel could see that it wasn’t going to be long until their was a confrontation of some kind.

Jo snapped first.

“You have something to say to me Bradbury?”

Everyone else fell silent.

“No.”

“You sure?” asked Jo. Charlie looked around at the others, hoping they would intervene. No one met her eyes, obviously too scared of Jo to come to her defense. “Because you sure look like you want to say something.

“I just…” Charlie said, swallowing. “I just figured I should say congrats. Glad you found someone who makes you happy.”

Charlie didn’t sound glad. Castiel wondered who she could be talking about, since as far as he knew Jo had not been having sex with anyone since her latest break up with Charlie. In fact he was sure of it, as he had been spending most of his nights speaking with her and-

Oh.

“You think I’m…” Jo looked at Cas and just started laughing. She didn’t sound even a little bit happy. “You’re a fucking mess, Charlie.”

“I mean, you were in the same sleeping bag last night,” said Jason. Dean hit the back of his head sharply. “What? They were!”

“Doesn’t matter, anyway,” said Jo. “Because it’s none of her fucking business.”

“I know it’s not,” said Charlie. “That’s why I wasn’t saying anything.”

“Well, good,” said Jo. “Not like I want to talk to you either.”

There was dead silence for the space of five seconds in which Cas tried to (unsuccessfully) make himself as unnoticeable as possible. This was maybe why he missed Selma going up to both Charlie and Jo and sharply grabbing the both of them by their ears. The two loud and indignant shouts that came after were more than enough to alert him that something was happening.

“I am so tired of seeing the two of you hurt each other,” said Selma with a calm kind of anger. “If nothing else, you are supposed to be friends.”

Selma released the both of them, who immediately took a wary step back from her.

“There’s no guarantee either of you are going to live through this war,” said Selma. “And you might think right now you won’t regret your petty fights if that happens. But in five years? Ten? That regret will come for you, and it will make a home in your heart and never leave.”

Both women were staring at their feet. Jo chanced a glance up, only to look down as soon as Charlie did the same. Cas looked back at Selma, who seemed to have used up most of her anger by now.

“You both owe each other an apology,” said Selma. She nudged Jo gently, and Jo looked as though she were about to protest but then faltered.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “Charlie… I’m sorry.”

“I told you,” said Charlie, trying to play something off. “It’s okay. As long as you’re happy.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, I am not sleeping with Cas,” said Jo, anger back with a vengeance. She took two quick steps forward and dragged Charlie forward into a kiss. Charlie’s hands immediately went around Jo’s neck. A few seconds later Jo pulled back.

Charlie stared at her a little blankly for a moment before pulling her back in and continuing the kiss.

Dean cleared his throat.

“Guys,” he said. He was ignored. “Guys is now really the best time to be-“

The door in front of them swung open to reveal a man. He was dressed in a suit that was made of a shiny black textured fabric, and had on a crown. He looked at the collection of resistance members on his front step and his eyes zeroed in on Jo and Charlie, who were still kissing.

Dean stomped on Jo’s foot.

“Hey!” Jo exclaimed. She turned and saw the king standing there and her expression went from ‘oh shit’ to blank and professional within the space of a second.

“Your majesty,” Dean said after a moment of silence. The king rolled his eyes and let out a little huff of impatience before returning his gaze to Charlie.

“I was under the impression you were marrying the redhead,” said McCleod. He didn’t look pleased.

“Oh… me?” Charlie said after a second, slipping easily into a character Castiel hardly recognized as Charlie. She became someone without any weight on her shoulders. “Are you serious?”

“The message I received did say something along those lines, Ms. Bradbury.”

“Oh, that is hilarious,” Charlie said, laughing a little. Dean joined in with her, and a couple of others in the group managed to fake a giggle. “No, I am so not into dudes. Dean, you must have been sleepwalking through writing that.”

“Haven’t had a ton of sleep recently,” Dean admitted, playing along with wherever Charlie was going with this. “Honest mistake.”

“Then who exactly are you engaged to?” asked the king. He sounded equal parts annoyed and amused. Castiel had a feeling he could see right through the ruse, and always had been able to. Which made it all seem strange that they kept the ruse going when it had already gone so wrong so fast.

“Oh, he’s engaged to my brother. Must’ve mixed us up when he was typing up the note,” said Charlie brightly. “Meet Castiel Bradbury.”

APRIL 17, 111 A.L. - MCCLEOD CITY

Cas took deep breaths pretending to be asleep. After Charlie had ad-libbed her way into placing Cas into the role she was supposed to play, the day had gone by in something of a blur of trying to soothe McCleod’s ego at every turn. Cas had been a brief interest for him before he had decided it would be more entertaining to make himself as disagreeable as possible. Dean had slowly but surely lost his patience, and, if anything, that was the first time McCleod seemed even remotely interested in what was going.

“You wanna know what? Fuck it. What do you want?” asked Dean. The king had shrugged, bored. That was when the yelling started. “Crowley, if you don’t fucking help us-“

“You’ll do what?” asked McCleod dismissively. “Don’t bite the hand that feeds you. And remember, I am feeding every last man under your command. You think a small gift of territory I could take on my own is enough to convince me to let go valuable soldiers when I am at war with Rowena-“

“If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t be king at all,” said Dean. “Who helped you overthrow her?”

“Well, then maybe you should have come up with a better plan,” said Crowley. “That way she wouldn’t still be in charge of half the bloody kingdom!”

“With all due respect,” said Risa, her voice lacking any respect at all. “We could bang out a deal. You help us now, we help you later. Once the state’s under our control, we’ll commit resources to you overtaking East Canada.”

“Don’t insult my intelligence,” said McCleod. “Once the state has fallen, you’ll be engaged in petty squabbles over who should lead and more likely than not, dyeing the streets red with state loyalists’ blood. Besides, I happen to be entertaining more promising deals at the moment.”

That had stopped everyone short. Dean had made it sound as though McCleod would be a nightmare to deal with, but ultimately convincible. That was of course considering that they were the only people willing to deal with Crowley.

“Who?” asked Dean. McCleod raised an eyebrow.

“Desperate times call for strange bedfellows,” he said.

“That’s not an answer, Crowley,” said Dean, actual malice making it’s way into his voice. McCleod smiled at him, and Dean looked to be seconds away from violence. Cas spoke up quietly, having figured it out the moment Crowley had spoken about others offering him deals.

“He’s been speaking to Naomi,” he said. McCleod looked at him again, a touch more interest than before in his eyes. Castiel could see him take in Castiel’s posture, and the fact that when aware of this, Castiel immediately tried to hunch down a little.

“He’s sharper than he looks,” said the king. He turned to Dean with a bitter smirk. “I knew you had a thing for uniforms, but marrying a soldier? Bold move.”

“What I am doesn’t matter,” said Castiel, doing his best to push down his irritation. “You can’t trust, Naomi. You must know that.”

“And you know this from personal experience?” asked McCleod.

“Yes,” said Cas, not going into the details. McCleod didn’t have the same inhibitions.

“You wouldn’t happen to have been the little bird in her ear?” asked Crowley. “She did mention having eyes on Winchesters Dumb and Dumber. She also thought to call me up to let me know I might save on supplies if an assassination plan of hers were to work.”

“She made me a promise she didn’t keep,” said Cas. “Whatever you think she’s going to give you, she won’t.”

“I suppose it’s safe to say the assassination failed,” said McCleod, ignoring Castiel’s warnings. “Miserably.”

“Something like that,” said Dean. “And, just to be clear, you didn’t tell me about Naomi’s plan to kill me because…?”

“You were probably being an ungrateful twat at the time,” said McCleod. Dean rolled his eyes and sat back in his chair. “Oh don’t give me that look, love. You’ve survived worse. I didn’t doubt you’d make it out alive, and I do better when I deal with both sides. It isn’t personal.”

“So we can’t expect your loyalty if we win?” asked Dorothy. Dorothy was here mostly to be Mary’s eyes and ears, as well as keep an eye out for any interests that served their military interests since both Dean and Mary admitted that they had different issues to contend with, and Dean wasn’t familiar with everything he might need to ask.

“I always keep my word,” Crowley said. “But I don’t always play nice. Does that answer your question?”

Dorothy sat back. She kept her expression blank, but Cas could see her hands tighten slightly. He was glad to see that dealing with McCleod seemed to be a universally unpleasant experience. He had started to think perhaps he was imagining how annoying he was.

“Okay, everybody calm down,” said Dean, sensing a rising tension in Risa and Jo, who had exchanged glances and looked ready to chew McCleod out. “Crowley, I want you to think long and hard about who’s more likely to have your back when the chips are down. Because I promise you that there’s no chance in hell it’s going to be Naomi, and we aren’t going to do shit if you keep helping her. Take a day or two to figure out what you want, and we’ll talk.”

“And if you don’t have anything that I want?” McCleod asked coolly.

“If we didn’t, you wouldn’t have agreed to see us at all,” said Dean.

“Maybe I was just curious,” said the king with a shrug. “You look tired, Dean.”

“We’re done here,” said Dean, standing up and leaving the room. Cas watched him go along with everyone else, and didn’t see him later until he was led by one of McCleod’s people to the room Dean was staying in.

Cas had hovered outside the door for five minutes before finally knocking. Dean opened the door, stepped aside and then went back to sitting in his chair reading a well weathered book titled “Cat’s Cradle”.

“I can sleep elsewhere,” said Cas. Dean looked up from his book.

“You can’t actually,” he said, sounding apologetic. “I know it sounds stupid, and I’m going to kill Charlie for fucking up and subbing you in last second, but there is a reason I’m doing this.”

“I’m going to guess you had a prior relationship with, uh, ‘Crowley’,” said Cas.

“No. Well, not exactly,” said Dean. His face had started to go a little red. “One weird weekend, okay?”

“Did he think it was something else?”

“No. God, no,” said Dean. “He just… look, he’s surrounded by people that don’t trust him, don’t like that he’s giving us so many resources, and are angling to take the throne from him. I’m just taking the pressure off by making sure no one can accuse him of… thinking with his other brain.”

“Ah, I see. You’re protecting him.”

“I’m making sure one of the few allies we have doesn’t get murdered. Don’t make it sound sappy,” said Dean wrinkling his nose in disgust. “And just so you know, this is the last time we bring this up. I’m only telling you now cause I figure I owe you an explanation after what happened today.”

“I don’t know why you’re embarrassed,” said Cas. “As far as partners go, I think Gordon was probably the worst choice you’ve made.”

“Oh, so you have opinions about who I’ve slept with now. Great,” said Dean. “Get over yourself, Cas. You wanna go on ignoring me, go ahead, but I’m not going to take your shit.”

Castiel held his tongue. Dean was right that it wasn’t his place to comment, and Dean’s first instinct had been to give Cas space when he arrived. He was being nothing if not courteous.

“You’re right,” he said. “I don’t know why I said that.”

“I do,” said Dean, setting his book down with a sigh. “It’s ‘cause you’re jealous.”

Cas frowned.

“I don’t think that’s right.”

“Whatever you have to tell yourself,” said Dean. “So… who’s taking the floor?”

Castiel agreed to do this, because Dean seemed very interested in sleeping on the mattress (something about memory foam, whatever that was) and comfort was not as important to him as it seemed to be to Dean. If he could sleep at all, and especially if he could sleep without dreaming, he would be happy.

Unfortunately, that had not happened. He wasn’t sure what was keeping him from relaxing, or why he was going through the charade of sleeping when he could hear Dean’s snores sounding from ten feet away. Cas sighed and got up, creeping towards the door.

He left with barely a sound and felt his bare feet freezing against the tile hallway floor. It likely wouldn’t do to wander, but that didn’t stop Castiel from walking to the end of a hallway, where he found a guard standing idle. When he saw Cas, he stood up straighter.

“Do you need something?” asked the guard, indicating by tone alone that Castiel’s answer should be no. Cas shook his head and tried to walk past him. He found his path blocked. “If you need something, I’ll get it.”

Castiel briefly considered disarming and knocking out the irritating guard, but ultimately decided against it. It would likely cause trouble in their negotiations, and it wasn’t the guard’s fault that Cas’ fears of being trapped were acting up again. He ended up pacing the length of the hallway and focusing on his breathing while the guard watched him. He grew more and more wary the longer Castiel paced the hallway, and after fifteen minutes, Cas disappeared back into his room to put the guard at ease.

Once again he was back to that deeply troubled feeling. He shut the door softly behind him, and took a step toward Dean, who had started fidgeting in his sleep. Suddenly, he went completely rigid and his eyes snapped open. Before Cas could even take a step back, he had been knocked off his feet and found Dean’s hands wrapped around his throat.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” he hissed, as Cas tried to claw at the hands that were constricting his breathing. Only a second passed before a burst of realization crossed Dean’s face and Cas was let go, gasping for air. “Shit. Shit, Cas I’m sorry.”

“It’s-“ Cas was cut off as he coughed. His throat ached and his voice sounded too rough. “It’s fine. Bad dream. I understand.”

Dean helped him up and sat him on the bed and turned on the light so he could see if Cas’ neck was going to be bruised. By the grim look on his face, Cas suspected it had already started to change color.

“This is why Charlie was supposed to do this,” he said quietly to himself. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“Does this happen often?” asked Cas.

“Not anymore,” said Dean. “Word of advice for the future though, don’t stand over me like that.”

“Noted,” Castiel said quietly. “What were you dreaming about?”

“Hell,” said Dean. “Or close enough I guess.”

“Prison,” Castiel said with a nod. “You feared for your life in more ways than one.”

“Twenty guys in a cell and not enough food or water. You do math what happened,” said Dean, instantly distant. “You think you’ve got blood on your hands? Mine are never gonna be clean.”

“You said you were the only one left after that first summer,” Castiel prompted softly. Dean looked a little surprised.

“Can’t believe you remember that. You were pretty out of it when I- Yeah. The heat got to some. Some people got sick. And some people figured out that if there were less of us there might actually be enough to survive on. And then there was this one guy Alistair… I think he just thought it was fun. He’d pick someone to kill off and spend days or even weeks fucking with them before he’d dash their brains out. Nobody said anything about it because they didn’t wanna be next.”

“How many did you…?” Cas asked. Dean shuddered, understanding the question immediately.

“Six,” he said. “I tried to uh, knock Alistair off at one point. He didn’t really like that. Made an agreement with everyone who was left that if I died next he would stop picking them off one by one. I guess they figured they had a better chance against me than him. I was nineteen, and skinny. Probably didn’t look too hard to get the drop on.”

Dean’s expression was haunted. Cas wished he knew a way to soothe away the memories. Make them fade into something hazy and forgotten.

“I just wanted to see the sun again, Cas,” said Dean, desperate to be understood or forgiven. Castiel wasn’t sure. “So I killed every last one of those sons of bitches with my bare hands.”

Dean let out a high pitched laugh.

“The prison guards all thought it was so damn entertaining. They left me there with nineteen rotting corpses, and they laughed when I begged them to let me out, just to get away from the smell. Every one of them except Benny. He always just looked sad,” said Dean. “He got me out within a week.”

“And you found your mother,” Cas surmised. “You started to get better. You went to Sanctus at some point and met Jo, and the majority of your militia. Then Sam escaped, and you had him trained by Eileen to be your second in command.”

“More or less,” said Dean. “And that, that’s pretty much me. So, what do you think? Have I lived up to the expectations?”

Cas knew he must be looking at Dean with something akin to pity. He also knew that would not go over well in the least.

“What happens when you win?” Castiel asked. “When is it going to stop?”

“That’s the question, huh?” said Dean. “The truth is we don’t win, Cas. Not me, not you, not Sam, or Mom.”

The list could go on forever. Harriet, who had survived the worst nature had to throw at her only to lose her husband. Selma and Charlie, who fear above all else losing those they get close to. Trisha, who was nearly killed by her brother because he thought she might be disloyal to the cause. Every unfixable person who kept moving because that was the only option left to them.

“No one wins,” Cas said, feeling the crushing weight of it fall onto his shoulders. “Then what’s the point? If all there is is anger and sadness and revenge and hopelessness, then what is the fucking point?”

Dean side-eyed him.

“Well, for me,” he said slowly. “I gotta a daughter and I want her to grow up in a better world than I did. I want her to remember I loved her, and I fought for her future. We don’t win, Cas. That doesn’t mean no one does. My mom tried to do that for me, and even if… even if she screwed that up I know she was trying. And I tried to make sure Sam did okay, and I didn’t really manage that any better than Mom did. But Emma’s going to be different.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yeah, well I gotta believe it,” said Dean. “And I ain’t gonna stop. It gets me through the day, just like you and Selma chatting about your imaginary friends gets you through the day.”

“I don’t think demeaning my religion during my existential crisis is the wisest idea you’ve ever had,” said Cas. He spoke too softly, and he was barely able to manage his usual level of sarcastic disdain. A fresh wave of horror fell over him as he contemplated what living out the rest of his days meant. “It’s never going to end.”

“Cas,” Dean said carefully. He was right to be cautious, because every way Castiel had used to stitch himself together since Anna’s death was coming unraveled all at once.

“Oh god,” said Cas. “I can’t- I don’t know how to-“

He was in pieces. Every part of him sharp and painful, and all of it was too much to process at once. All the sadness and pain and confusion he had pressed down was flooding through him, and he just wanted it to end.

Castiel hadn’t cried once. Not for Anna, not for Samandriel, or Dr. Newman, or even just out of pure misery. It all came out now in racking sobs that made his lungs ache and burned his already sore throat. It wasn’t until this moment that Cas realized just how numb he had made himself to his own distress. Now it overpowered him.

Cas’ head was in his hands and at first he hardly registered that Dean was sat still as a stone beside him, he was too lost to his grief. Then tentative hands reached out and Cas was dragged into a loosely held hug, one he could break out of easily if he wanted to. Gradually he was tugged in tighter and a thread of confusion started to break through Cas’ pain.

“I’ve gotcha, c’mon,” said Dean soothingly. Like he might to a child. “You’re fine, Cas. Everything is fine.”

It was a blatant lie, but Cas couldn’t feel any anger rise up to meet it. He sobbed himself into nothingness, to sheer exhaustion. When he stopped he was just quiet. What was there to say when everything was meaningless? Death was coming for him, and for everyone he knew, and there was nothing but emptiness in the time between.

Dean pestered him into lying back on the bed and tried multiple times to convince him to go to sleep, but all Cas would do is stare blankly at the ceiling. A time passed and Dean waved his hand in front of Cas’ face. Castiel mustered the energy to look at him and see he was holding the book of poetry that Dean had given him in Dean’s hands.

“How about I read to you,” Dean said. “And you try to get some sleep?”

Cas went back to staring at the ceiling. Dean sighed. Out of the corner of his eyes, Cas could see Dean opening the book and the slight intake of breath in anger when he saw writing strewn across the margins.

“Did you write in this?”

“You said it was mine.”

Dean let out a long slow breath, obviously convincing himself to stay calm.

“We don’t have a lot of books, Cas,” he said.

“I felt like she was speaking to me. I wanted to talk back.”

Dean frowned at him a moment and then opened the book again to a random page. He sat down on an armchair he had dragged closer to the bed, his feet resting on the edge of the memory foam mattress he had been so enthused about earlier. Cas personally thought it felt almost too soft. Like lying on cloud, he felt he might fall through it any second. Not that he would mind if the Earth opened beneath him to swallow him up.

Dean cleared his throat. Cas pretended he wasn’t paying attention.

“I cannot live with you, that would be life, and life is over there behind the shelf the sexton keeps the key to, putting up our life, his porcelain, like a cup-“

Dean has a nice voice, Cas thought to himself. Despite himself.

“-discarded of the housewife, quaint or broken. A new Sévres pleases, old ones crack,” Dean paused here, and Castiel wondered if he was reading his notes. The words he had scrawled beside the poem, one he had spent no small amount of time on. In retrospect, it wasn’t a surprise this was a page Dean would open up to. The spines of books have memories and they tend to open to pages that are lingered on.

“I could not die with you, for one must wait to shut the other’s gaze down. You could not,” read Dean. “And I, could I stand by and see you freeze, without my right of frost, Death’s privilege?”

“Nor could I rise with you, because your face would put out Jesus’, that new grace glow plain and foreign on my homesick eye, except that you, than he shone closer by,” Castiel said from memory when Dean paused again. He hadn’t even pretended not to be reading Cas’ thoughts from the page this time. Dean’s eyes snapped up to him as he recited and then fell back to the book. He started reading from where Castiel had left off.

“They’d judge us, how? For you served Heaven, you know, or sought to. I could not because you saturated sight, and I had no more eyes for sordid excellence as Paradise. And were you lost, I would be, though my name rang loudest on the heavenly fame. And were you saved, and I condemned to be where you were not, that self were hell to me,” said Dean in response. Cas closed his eyes. “So we must keep apart, you there, I here, with just the door ajar that oceans are, and prayer, and that pale sustenance-“

“Despair,” Castiel finished for him.

“Light reading,” Dean muttered to himself. “I forgot how depressing this chick was.”

“She certainly had an intense relationship with sadness,” said Cas. “And longing.”

Dean turned the page and started on the next poem and then the next. Castiel slowly drifted between waking and sleeping, and a thread through each was the steady cadence of familiar words spoken by a familiar voice.

It wasn’t a long time before he woke again, but he kept his eyes closed. He was bone tired and he didn’t want to move just yet. He heard a voice and vaguely realized that it was Dean’s.

“Did you have to slam the door? I swear, I just got him to sleep,” said Dean quietly to someone else. Jo, he realized as soon as she spoke back.

“I just wanted to check in,” Jo whispered back. “You two missed breakfast. People were worried.”

“Crowley can go fuck himself.”

“I was talking about Charlie actually,” said Jo. “And me. Were you reading to him all night?”

“What? No,” said Dean. Jo muttered something Cas didn’t catch and he heard Dean stand up to face her. “Look, he was having a hard time okay? Simple as that. I don't know why you're making into such a big deal."

Jo walked closer. Cas pictured her in his mind and could imagine the way she would glance at Cas to make sure he was still asleep before saying what she said next.

“You’ve never been in love before, have you?” she asked Dean.

There was complete silence for the space of a few seconds.

“Fuck,” said Dean suddenly. And then with more feeling. “Fuck.”

“Yeah, it feels like that,” said Jo. “And it gets so much worse.”

“I- I’m going to go get something to eat,” Dean said, instead of addressing that head on. “Watch him. Make sure he gets some goddamned sleep.”

“Sure thing, boss,” said Jo, a smidgen of her usual insubordinate self missing. She almost sounded respectful. Dean left without another word and Jo sat down in the chair he had vacated, the springs squeaking as she did so. Castiel kept breathing soundly. Jo didn’t try to wake him.

Cas ended up sleeping again. The next time he woke up, he was alone. He got up to look around and found it was late afternoon. When he left the room, dressed for the day, he found a guard waiting for him and was taken to where the others were having what looked to be some sort of competition.

Jo, Dorothy, and Rosali were taking turns at shooting increasingly distant targets, with Rosali winning each round with ease if the score sheet Charlie had set up was anything to go by. Dean had one perfect round, but seemed to have given up competing after that since his name had been crossed out from that section of the score sheet and put under wrestling where he had managed to eliminate Jason Tran out of a mini tournament that Charlie had written the brackets for.

“If it isn’t sleeping beauty,” said Risa. She was elbowed in the side by Corbett, who proceeded to give Cas a sympathetic look. Castiel knew then that they all had some idea that he had had something of a breakdown the night before. He nodded gratefully at Risa for treating him with normalcy and then walked up to Charlie.

“What’s going on?” he asked her.

“The king wanted to be a good host,” she said. “So he told us to have some fun.”

Castiel watched as Selma took an elegant knife that surely belonged to the king and threw it so it went right through the heart of a person shaped target twenty feet from her. She was wearing a flowery purple hijab to match her clothing instead of her favored green, and it struck Castiel suddenly that everyone was dressed nicer than usual.

“Are we trying to get on the king’s good side?” asked Castiel to Charlie. She nodded. “Perhaps I should stay out of sight then.”

“Nah,” said Charlie. “We need his minions thinking you and Dean are happily together. The two of you missing breakfast was a good idea. I’m sure they all think you two were, uh, celebrating your engagement.”

Charlie sounded happier than she had before, though she was still making an effort to be careful with him. Castiel wasn’t sure where their friendship had faltered, but he would be grateful to have it back.

“You do know I have never had and never will have romantic feelings for Jo,” he said to her. Charlie mustered up a smile.

“Yeah, I figured that out,” she said.

“As long as that’s clear,” said Cas. He cleared his throat and sat down next to Charlie. “So why exactly are we so keen to prove that Dean is in a relationship?”

“Making sure McCleod doesn’t get smothered in his sleep,” said Charlie. “The high ranking officials don’t like us here. And they don’t have much loyalty to the McCleods either. Just look how easy it was to get them to turn against Rowena.”

“And she’s the queen of East Canada?” asked Cas.

“Yeah. And Crowley’s mom,” said Charlie.

“There’s a story there,” Cas commented. Charlie nodded, but stopped a moment to put down the progress of the different mini tournaments that were going on. George had just defeated Laurence in a wrestling match, while Trisha had beaten Maggie. Selma, Corbett, and Carl were throwing knives, though they seemed less competitive and more friendly with each other. Rosali was still a better shot than everyone else in the room, possibly excluding Dean.

“Yeah,” Charlie said after she had finished jotting down numbers. “So the story starts a long while back. Rowena was a daughter of one of the old king’s servants, and she fell in love with him. They had an affair and Rowena got pregnant with Fergus. The old king didn’t have any kids with his wife yet, and when she found out she put a price on Rowena and Fergus’ head and the king did nothing to stop her. Rowena had to run and I’m betting she started plotting that very day what she was going to do to get back at them. Ten years later, the queen has had seven daughters, but no sons and the old king was pissed. Sexist prick. Anyway, he tried to find Fergus so he could be his heir.”

“Rowena brought him to his father.”

“Yeah. She agreed to every condition he put on it, too. She did such a good job convincing him she became the old king’s closest advisor. Two years after Rowena and Crowley arrived, the old king and the queen “mysteriously” died and she declared herself queen,” said Charlie. “It didn’t go over well, but what was anyone going to do? She was the mother of the king’s heir. It helped that she took the queen’s daughters in as her own. She raised them as her personal bodyguards and had them trained in combat. Every one of them would give their life for her, and rumor has it that she pretty much gave them whatever they wanted. She adored them.”

“His highness started to worry,” said Cas, catching on quickly.

“Rowena had only ever used him,” Charlie confirmed. “She hated the pain he put her through, and treated him like crap. So Crowley started to wonder if she would pass the crown to him at all, or if someday he would die the same way the old king and queen had.”

“And Crowley is…?”

“His middle name. For friends only, and usually not even then,” said Charlie. “Dean gets away with it because he’s Dean. Which is sort of the issue. Crowley likes him too much, and he’s not the only monarch on the scene. Rowena is tough as nails and escaped when Dean and Crowley tried to overthrow her. East Canada is still completely under her control.”

“You almost sound like you like her,” said Castiel after a moment.

Charlie shrugged.

“She had a tough life and managed to work her way up from nothing to the point where she could declare herself queen,” said Charlie. “It’s pretty cool. Plus she looks kinda rocking in a gown.”

“You deal with both Canadas?” asked Cas. Charlie nodded. “I can see Crowley’s frustration then. You’re making him look bad by working with his enemies, and expecting his loyalty anyway.”

“Yup,” said Charlie. “It is what it is. But it helps if his underlings think he’s being difficult with Dean and not just giving him everything he wants. And it helps even more if Dean isn’t available, because that removes pretty much all incentive for Crowley to be nice to him. And that is where you come in.”

“I need to pretend to be happy, don’t I?” asked Castiel, noticing some of the men and women serving under Crowley watching their sport. “Oh joy.”

“Pretty much. Sorry about that one,” said Charlie. “You were just the first person I could think of that wouldn’t be suspicious. They can’t prove you’re not my brother. No paperwork trail to follow back before you got assigned to be a soldier. If it’s just a thoughtless error, people will believe it and either way it’s C. Bradbury. Saying Dean was engaged to Risa and accidentally wrote my name might raise a few eyebrows.”

That was true. Anyone who was a soldier or in a leadership role was given a new identity without any records connecting it to their old name and identity. Crowley’s men could spend their lives looking and never truly be able to tell who Cas was before he was nine and had been sent to be trained as a soldier.

“Crowley knows it’s a ruse?” Cas asked next.

“Of course he does,” she said. “Dean probably ran it by him. The issue was that everyone here knows what I look like and that meant as soon as I kissed Jo the jig was up.”

“Jo kissed you,” Cas corrected. “Please don’t hurt her again.”

Charlie looked at him.

“I’m trying,” she said at last.

“That’s all I ask,” said Cas. “Well, I should probably go play my part.”

Charlie stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

“Cas, are you okay?” she said. “Jo and Dean mentioned you were… upset.”

“It’s kind of you to worry about me,” Castiel said with a smile. Charlie offered a smile back and let him go when he gently pulled his arm from her grasp. She went back to tallying points and Cas went to join Selma, Corbett, and Carl in throwing knives. Selma handed him one of her knives and Cas threw it in the air for a moment before launching it at the target. It landed between its eyes. Cas heard a whistle from behind him.

“You’re a fucking showoff aren’t you?” asked Dean, who had settled in comfortably back into the persona he seemed to prefer. Careless and cocksure.

“I’m trying to catch up,” said Cas. Selma seemed to take that as a personal challenge and launched three knives in a row at the same target in a triangle surrounding the knife Cas had thrown. She smiled at him and Cas let out an honest laugh.

“Good luck with that,” said Dean, slapping him lightly on the shoulder. “I’m rooting for you, sunshine.”

Dean winked at him and then went off to face Trisha in a wrestling match. Castiel missed the target completely on the next throw, and glared at Selma when she had the gall to giggle at him.

Pretending to be normal again was surprisingly easy. It wasn’t that he couldn’t still feel the awful ugliness of his emotions inside him, it was just that he had spent so long not acknowledging it that putting the sharp edges of himself back into a box wasn’t as difficult as he feared it would be. Or rather, if he focused on the person he was pretending to be, he didn’t have the time to dwell on the pointlessness of existence.

Cas threw knives and chatted with Selma, and wryly congratulated Dean on his victory over George in the wrestling competition. No one mentioned his breakdown from the night before again, or the bruises around his neck. Dean played his part well, being openly affectionate to Cas and touching him in small ways whenever he was close. Dean’s performance was a subtle one, and likely far more convincing than if he had tried to kiss Castiel multiple times or done anything else that would immediately alert the men and women watching that they were trying too hard. He was just always at the periphery of Castiel’s existence, and frequently made some comment or other to make Cas smile. The lines between what was an act and what was genuine affection blurred easily, and Castiel understood now why Dean wanted Charlie to play this role. Then there would be no misunderstandings.

Jo stepped in at one point to insist that she could take Dean in a wrestling match (she couldn’t), which led everyone who had yet to face him to take a turn. Dorothy nearly managed to take him down, but Dean pinned her with a swift move that brought her to the ground just when she thought she’d had him. When Castiel agreed with some minor coaxing on Charlie’s part to attempt to do so as well, he decided to throw the match early. He wasn’t in the mood for a fight.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” said Dean, eyebrows raised. “Show me what you got.”

Dean almost had him pinned in a matter of seconds, but let Cas go and frowned at him when he realized Cas wasn’t trying. He helped him up and leaned close to whisper to him.

“Cas, we’re putting on a show. These people gotta see that we can win,” he said. “That’s the whole point of this. We need Crowley to give us back up if we’re going to take Superbia.”

“Fine,” said Castiel, deciding that this would be over more quickly if he just went along with it. He wanted to stop pretending to be alright. What had started out easy had worn on him slowly, and at this point the only thing he wanted to do was curl up some place and never wake up. “But you asked for this.”

“You think you can beat me?” Dean asked, a little bit of a twinkle in his eye. “I think I came out on top when you tried to kill me.”

“I was under the influence of powerful drugs,” said Cas. “And actively fighting against their influence, and I still managed to get the upper hand.”

“Not how I remember it,” said Dean with a shrug. Castiel could see through his attempts to goad him into a competitive mood. Unfortunately, it was still working. Cas couldn’t help but respond to the careful prodding at his pride, which it seemed could still rear its ugly head even now.

Dean was good, Castiel would admit. He was quick on his feet, and a creative thinker when it came to fighting. The fight lasted even longer than the match with Dorothy had lasted, each of them just avoiding going down multiple times. Cas knew at this point he could probably let Dean win and Dean would accept it, but for the moment at least it was like something had been lit inside of him and he didn’t want the feeling to go away. Not just yet.

Dean took a misstep that put him off balance for a second. Cas lunged forward and knocked him off his feet. Cas pinned him down as soon as he hit the ground, and Dean looked a little stunned to see Cas over him.

“I win,” said Cas. Dean’s grin flashed fast across his face.

“Only ‘cause I let you.”

“You did not,” said Cas with a snort.

“Maybe I was just curious what you’d feel like on top of me,” said Dean nonchalantly. Cas’ mind stumbled over the words in vague bewilderment, and before he could realize what was happening, Dean had used his distraction to escape. When Cas tried to get up to resume the fight, he felt a knee come down hard at the small of his back and his arms were yanked out from under him. He struggled a moment, but it was no use. Charlie declared Dean the official winner, after which Dean let Cas go and helped him to his feet.

“I feel like that was cheating,” Cas said, narrowing his eyes.

“Pretty much,” said Dean. “Rule one, Cas. Always cheat.”

“Is there a rule two?” Cas asked.

“Yeah, there is. Rule two is never underestimate your opponent,” said Dean with a smirk. Cas rolled his eyes. “And rule three is focus on the little things.”

“The little things?” Cas asked. Dean nodded.

“Selma made you laugh today,” said Dean. “You made Charlie smile. You picked a fight with me for the fun of it. Little things.”

“You picked a fight with me,” muttered Cas, putting extra emphasis on the you. “I only tried to win because you’re annoying.”

“My point exactly,” said Dean smoothly. “The big picture is fucking terrifying for you right now. I get that. I’ve lived that. So focus on the little things for a while. Don’t let some dumb thing I said break you. You’re better than that.”

Dean reached out and quickly swiped some of the dirt from the front of Cas’ shirt, before smiling at him and gently pushing him back towards where Selma was still throwing knives.

“Go have fun, babe,” he said, a firm reminder to Cas that they were still acting. “I have something I need to get sorted.”

Dean beckoned toward Jo and Risa who both stood up to accompany him. Charlie stayed, and the various competitions wound down to simply having fun with the weapons Crowley was letting them play with. The king may be many things, but he had good taste when it came to military equipment. There was something elegant about it that was missing from the highly efficient state weapons Castiel was used to. He and Selma had fun trying to hit targets that Corbett helpfully threw into the air for them, and by the time they were finished it was time to eat.

Dinner passed uneventfully, with no discussion of why they were there. The longer it went on without anyone mentioning anything, the more Castiel wondered just what was going on. He didn’t eat much, too busy waiting for something to happen other than the king uselessly chattering on about how wonderful his chef and tailor were while everyone else smiled politely at him.

Cas went back to his room as soon as dinner was over and waited until Dean got back.

“What’s happening?” Cas asked as soon as Dean walked through the door.

“Crowley’s going to give us the people we need,” said Dean after a second of just staring at him. He’d obviously forgotten that Cas was going to be there for a moment. “We have to have an official talk about it tomorrow, but I got through to him.”

“What did you offer him?”

“You’ll find out tomorrow,” said Dean evasively.

“I’m not going to like it?” asked Cas. Dean nodded hesitantly. “Fine. I don’t have the energy to be angry with you right now anyway.”

Dean looked nothing but relieved by that, which increased Castiel’s worry that he really wasn’t going to like whatever conditions had been put on gaining the king’s assistance.

APRIL 18, 111 A.L. - MCCLEOD CITY, WEST CANADA

Crowley had gathered five hundred people out of his personal army to assist in the attack on Superbia. They were equipped with their own weapons and food, were told to respond to Dean’s orders (or else), and each were proficient enough in combat to be a threat. All that was left to do was for Dean and Crowley to sign a final agreement about the arrangement.

Only Jo, Risa, Charlie, and Castiel were in the room while one of Crowley’s men read through the contract and Charlie and Dean corrected wording and argued against clauses that could be twisted in ways they didn’t like. Piece by piece the agreement was falling into place.

Castiel was mostly bored with this. He didn’t care about the significance of using different prepositions within a contract, especially when one such instance caused a fifteen minute showdown that almost had the king walking away from the table. It all seemed like useless chatter.

Then again, the world itself still seemed grey at the edges to Cas, and he was finding more and more that he just didn’t care anymore. Whatever lever had been yanked inside him the day before had used up all of his emotions and now there just wasn’t anything left. Perhaps he should find that disturbing, but honestly he couldn’t really muster up any feelings for that either. Vaguely he wished he could talk to Garth about this, but it didn’t seem worth the trouble arranging a call with him would be.

Dean had asked him about it the night before. Cas had responded by saying he wanted to sleep, after which Dean had offered him use of the bed while he took the armchair. He’d also given Cas the copy of Cat’s Cradle he’d been reading with strict instructions not to write in this one. All in all, Dean seemed rather determined to get on his good side. Likely that meant something he really wouldn’t like was about to happen, and Castiel should be more worried about it.

Finally, they got to the end of the contract and the last few agreements that had been made.

“You, Dean Winchester, agree upon winning Superbia that you will hand over the city to the Kingdom of Canada, along with all resources available in the city. Citizens will be given the choice to relocate or become subjects of the Kingdom of Canada. Any and all prisoners of war will be the responsibility of Mary Winchester. Should this agreement not be upheld, the person in breach of the contract offers their life as forfeit.”

Charlie and Dean once again got to arguing about the wording. Cas could only stare at them.

“You offered him one of the seven cities?” Cas asked in shock.

“Cas, we can talk about this later,” said Dean. Jo gave Cas a quelling look, and Cas kept his mouth shut. For now. Crowley looked a little amused.

“Trouble in paradise?” he asked wryly. Dean narrowed his eyes at him. “I was only asking. Well, that is that. Sign on the dotted line and the army is yours.”

Dean looked at Charlie who nodded at him. Dean signed, and Crowley followed suit.

“And so falls Superbia,” said Crowley. There was a finality to his tone, and Castiel didn’t like any of it for a second. It wasn’t much comfort that Dean didn’t look like he much liked the agreement either.

“Not yet it hasn’t,” said Dean grimly. He looked toward the door, outside of which Crowley’s men would be waiting for his orders. “But it will.”


	10. The Chillest Land (Part 1)

APRIL 25, 111 A.L. - CAMP JEFFERSON STARSHIP

It was nice to be sleeping in cabins again, instead of tents.

It allowed Castiel the comfort of solitude when he needed it, and Dean allowed him that more than Charlie ever had when he had shared a cabin with her so many months ago. If Cas stopped to think about it, it felt like a lifetime.

Staying with Dean had been an inevitability, if only to keep up appearances for the moment. They could stage an end to the “relationship”, and Cas understood that that had been a possible plan when this was Charlie’s role to play, but Dean hadn’t mentioned it. Likely he wanted an excuse to keep Castiel in his line of sight, in case he got any bright ideas to sabotage the takeover of Superbia or tried to “swallow his gun” as Gabriel had so eloquently put it when talking about what happens to soldiers who begin to doubt the state.

Castiel hadn’t made it a secret he despised the deal Dean had made with Canada. It was one thing to overthrow a corrupt state and try to reform it from the ground up. It was another to give away people’s homes, their choices. It was unjust, and Castiel was sick and tired of the ends justifying the means.

It was difficult enough to hear about the fighting in Invidia, which had lasted longer than they had been hoping. Castiel kept to himself that it was obvious the reason why. The people of Invidia didn’t want the state to fall, and they were going to fight for its preservation until it was pried from their hands, perhaps even cold and dead ones. If the casualties were anything to go by, apparently the resistance didn’t think that was a problem.

Castiel was shaken by his thoughts by a knock at his door. He let out a sigh.

“What?”

The door opened, and Dean walked in, that same worried look he’d started wearing around Cas displayed in all its glory. Cas realized it was almost afternoon and he hadn’t actually bothered to get out of bed yet. He wondered a moment if he should care about how this made him look and then decided he didn’t have the energy.

“You eat today?”

“No,” said Cas, watching as the worried look deepened, the edges of Dean’s mouth pulling down into a frown. “You don’t need to worry. My eating habits won’t get in the way of you using me to take over Superbia.”

“You know that’s not why I’m asking,” Dean said back, voice flinty. “I asked Sam if they could spare Garth. He’s gonna be here in a couple of days.”

“That will be a relief for you,” said Castiel. “Not having to sneak into my room each morning and see if I’ve figured out a way to kill myself yet.”

Dean’s face went quickly through a series of emotions, surprise being chief among them. He really thought Cas wouldn’t bring that up. That they were still playing a charade in which they acting like nothing was wrong.

“It’s nice, really, Dean that you keep taking the bullets out of my guns, but I’m not going to pretend not to notice.”

“Does being an asshole make you feel better?” Dean asked, obviously trying to keep himself from lashing out in a similar fashion at Cas.

“Yes,” said Cas, looking away from him again. And then. “No. I’m sorry.”

Dean closed his eyes for a second, and then opened them and forced a smile. He walked up to Cas’ bed and sat at the end.

“I want to help, y’know,” he said quietly. “If I can.”

“Because you think you love me?” Cas asked, ignoring the sharp glance Dean gave him. “You don’t. Jo just put the idea in your head.”

“You heard that, huh,” Dean said, voice revealing nothing. “I thought you were trying to quit eavesdropping. For someone who keeps saying he’s not a spy, you sure act like one sometimes.”

“Practice makes perfect I suppose,” Castiel muttered.

“Cas, I-“ started Dean. He stopped, shook his head. “You need to get out of bed and eat something. That’s an order.”

“Is it?” asked Castiel. “Because I’m so good at following those.”

“Why are you like this?” Dean asked him next, his exasperated tone hitting deeper than Castiel thought possible. Something like pain spiked through him, and he’d hoped he was too numb to feel anything like that anymore. He wanted Dean to leave.

“I don’t know,” said Cas. “Maybe because the people I actually care about, the people who are as close to me as brothers or sisters might be, will die when we invade Superbia and it’s at least in part my fault. Maybe I’m like this because every time I try to help you, someone or something takes away more of my will and sanity. Maybe I’m like this because you are a contradictory dickhead who won’t stop confusing me about what’s right and what’s wrong, and I don’t even know how to hate you for it. And on top of it all, now you think you love me? Go fuck yourself, Dean.”

“Get out of bed. Go eat something,” Dean said, standing up and leaving without another word. Cas crossed his arms, a parody of stubbornness with no audience. Seconds ticked by, and Castiel got up and changed his clothes. Then he went to the bathroom and was surprised to see the beard on his face and only then remembered that he hadn’t shaved in days. It was almost incredible how good he had gotten at avoiding looking at his own reflection.

He took out a razor and shaved carefully, not even nicking himself once. When he was finished, he took another long look at himself. He was no longer within the appropriate dress code for a soldier. No uniform and his hair had grown too long. His fingers itched for a pair of scissors, something to remake himself into who he had been before. Restore his old confidence.

When he barged into Jo’s cabin demanding she cut his hair, he ignored the worried look she gave him, or the fact that Charlie was there too with Crookshanks in tow. The cat rubbed itself affectionately against Cas’ legs, and Cas felt a lump build in the back of his throat. Jo agreed after a few minutes of Cas offering a series of more useless excuses, seeming to realize she wasn’t going to get a real answer out of him. So she sat him down on a chair, and sent Charlie out to get the scissors from Risa.

“You going to tell me what’s going on?” Jo asked him for the millionth time.

“I want my hair to be shorter.”

Jo rolled her eyes and let it go. When Charlie got back with the scissors and Risa attached to them, Cas relented to letting Risa cut his hair instead. Jo seemed a little relieved by that, as though Castiel would care at all what it looked like. Risa started cutting his hair and Cas sat there, still as a stone.

“You doing alright there?” Risa asked him casually as she cut.

“Yes.”

“Good, just let me know if I’m yanking too hard. Trisha never stops complaining when she asks me to cut her hair. Ungrateful little jerk,” Risa said, though their was little heat behind her words. “What brought this on? Are you as stir crazy as I am waiting here?”

Cas didn’t answer. Risa let it slide.

“You know, Cas,” Risa said next. “I just wanted to say I’m glad you’re around. I think you’re part of the reason Corbett and Maggie ended up deciding to stay, and those two idiots would get in a lot of trouble without someone watching their backs. And Trisha can tolerate you, which is more than she does with most people. You were a good addition my crew. If you ever feel like you need to take a step back, from anyone or anything, I’ve still got a spot for you, okay?”

Cas nodded, still not speaking. He did appreciate the offer, more than he knew how to express. But he didn’t see much point in changing anything. It wasn’t going to make things better.

“And if you ever need me to yell at Dean for being an ass, I will do so free of charge.”

“He’s not doing anything wrong,” said Castiel. “At least not where I’m concerned.”

“Okay, then,” said Risa. She went back to cutting his hair, slowly and methodically. When she finished, she sent him to the bathroom mirror to take a look. Castiel stared at himself, trying to remember the last time he had looked like this. Probably before Anna died.

If he didn’t focus on the circles under his eyes, or the gauntness in his face, he could almost convince himself that nothing had happened at all.

“Cas?” asked Charlie behind him. Her voice was gentle and it brought him back to reality. Living in a past that he had never actually had was not going to help him. He shouldn’t have even tried. “Jo and I were going to play Go Fish to pass the time. Want in?”

“I have booze,” Jo added. Charlie gave her an angry look at that. Jo didn’t bother looking all that apologetic.

“Okay,” Castiel answered. Risa joined in on the game, and they spent several hours switching through poker, gin rummy, and several other games Cas had never heard of before and ended up losing very badly in. All the while, Cas made frequent use of Jo’s flask until his very identity started slipping pleasantly away from him.

APRIL 26, 111 A.L. - CAMP JEFFERSON STARSHIP

Jo helped Cas stumble back at about three a.m. He’d gone to dinner drunk the night before, and hadn’t let up afterwards despite worried looks from his friends. He had known during dinner that Jo was going to cut him off soon, and for this reason had managed to con Carl out of some of his own storage of alcohol by challenging him to a knife throwing drinking competition (which Carl had surely thought that Castiel was at a disadvantage for, already being a ways past sober. He was not aware of the times Balthazar had initiated such competitions during their time off, and that Castiel could maintain a scary degree of accuracy while under the influence).

He couldn’t be denied what he’d fairly won, and Jo and Charlie had dealt with it. He knew it wasn’t fair that they had to witness him drinking himself into oblivion, but when he offered to leave, Charlie had barked a short no, and insisted they didn’t mind that he could no longer remember the rules to any of the card games they were playing. So Cas had stayed until he had drank his winnings dry, and Jo and Charlie had let him sober up for an hour before Jo walked him back to his room in Dean’s cabin.

She kicked Dean’s door on the way out and told him that Cas was back. The sound of a knife sinking into the wall was more than enough to tell Cas why Jo didn’t go inside and wake Dean up to tell him this. Better to let Dean wake up by himself or to wake him from a great distance.

Cas curled up on his side in an attempt to ward off Dean and the oncoming headache he had. It didn’t work for either. He felt a light touch on his shoulder, so he sighed and tried to sit up, nearly falling back down when the blood rushed away from his head.

“Easy, Cas, easy,” Dean muttered, holding him up. “How much were you drinking?”

Cas was sure his response was not entirely coherent, and Dean didn’t seem to understand it all that much. Cas had already thrown up earlier on the walk back with Jo, so he wasn’t much worried about that happening again but he did have some vague notion that at one point he would have cared about people seeing him like this. That this would have been the very antithesis of how he saw himself, considering just how far out of his own control he had let himself become.

Perhaps he had started saying these sorts of things out loud, because someone was talking. Whatever Cas had said, it prompted Dean to hug him. At first Cas could feel himself tense up before his drunken brain decided that this was fine.

“This isn’t going to happen again,” Dean told him. “You’re going dry.”

“You can think so,” Castiel accidentally said out loud. Dean let him go and sat back, looking at him sternly.

“Drinking as a coping mechanism is something I am very familiar with Cas, and you ain’t on the healthy side of that line anymore,” Dean said. “Not that there is a healthy side, but still. You and Jo getting wasted every once in a while is fine. This isn’t.”

“I said I would do what you asked me and I haven’t changed my mind. I can keep myself alive long enough to get the job done. So stop pretending to care.”

It was a lot more garbled than Castiel meant for it to come out, but his words had started becoming sharp enough that he knew he would be understood.

“For the record, I do care,” said Dean, words coming out carefully. “So fuck you for that.”

“You care about me,” said Cas. “Like you care about Superbia and Invidia and the people who live there, too? You care until it’s inconvenient, and then it’s fine if you hurt them as long as you win? If you give away their homes and their lives?”

“You really want to have that conversation right this second? Because you could have picked a lot of other times to bring it up.”

“You use people.”

“That doesn’t mean I don’t care,” said Dean sharply. “You think I wanted to make that deal with Crowley? That’s the best offer he would take.”

“Then you should have said no,” said Cas. “When do we start doing the right thing, Dean? You’re a good man, and I wish you would act like it.”

“We need to win.”

“We need to win well,” said Cas. “Remember when Zachariah attacked us in Sanctus, there were no casualties. You did that. It’s why- it’s why I started to believe in you.”

“That’s not how war works, Cas,” said Dean, but he didn’t sound so sure anymore. “And Jesus, you shouldn’t say things like that.”

“You’re right, I shouldn’t,” said Castiel. “You’re already a disappointment.”

And out of all the times Cas had tried to hurt Dean, this was the first time he felt like he’d truly succeeded. Most of the time, Dean would let whatever Castiel said roll off of his shoulders, responding with rolled eyes for lesser offenses and anger for the more serious. But this time… For a moment, Dean looked broken. And of all Castiel’s various crimes, he couldn’t help feeling that this was one of the worst.

“If you wanna leave, Cas, no one is stopping you,” said Dean flatly. “I’m sure Naomi would appreciate the intel.”

“I already told you. I can keep myself alive long enough to do my part,” said Cas. “If you want me gone before then, do it yourself.”

“That’s it,” said Dean. “You’re out.”

“What?”

“You’re out. We’re going with brute force to take the city and you are going with Garth until I say otherwise.”

“You can’t do that.”

“Actually, Cas, I really can,” said Dean. “Believe it or not, as long as you’re here, I’m in charge of you.”

Castiel shoved Dean and listened with satisfaction at the thump of him hitting the floor. Dean looked up at him, and Cas tried not to drunkenly lose his balance while he stood over Dean. There was nothing much intimidating about falling over your own feet.

“Would you like to repeat that?”

“Yeah. I would,” said Dean. “I’m in charge of you, and if you don’t like that, the door’s right there. Don’t let it hit you on the way out.”

Cas didn’t move.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” said Dean. “Cas, if this is a call for help, I’m fucking listening.”

“I can go through with the plan,” said Cas. “I can-“

“I know you can. I’m saying that I’m not going to let you,” said Dean. “And maybe I shouldn’t have asked in the first place. I just figured-“

“We want as many as possible to surrender,” said Cas. “That’s how I can save them. That’s all I’m good for anymore, you have to let me-”

“No,” said Dean. Cas stopped talking and grabbed the corner of the bed frame to help himself sit down again. He could feel his shoulders slump as he sat down heavily, and he wondered a moment what he must look like. A drunken ex-soldier bending to the will of someone he never should have listened to in the first place. If Naomi had known what was good for her, she would have shot him on sight like she was supposed to. “I only asked Cas, because I thought you were getting better. When I said that you could say no, that wasn’t a bargaining trick. I meant it.”

“I know you did,” said Cas. “I said I would do it because I trusted you. And you can trust me to do what I promised.”

“This ain’t about trust. This is about the fact you don’t want to be around and I don’t know how to fix it. Hell, I don’t think I can. What I can do is not make it worse. And helping take down Superbia is going to make it worse. There’s going to be casualties Cas, no matter what happens and I am not letting you take responsibility for them. The decision’s out of your hands,” said Dean. “Nothing you can do about it.”

“Nothing I can do about it,” Cas repeated after a moment. “I want to go to sleep now, Dean.”

“Okay.”

“Leave,” Cas said, looking at him pointedly. Dean frowned, but stood up slowly and went back to the other room. Cas lay back in his bed and closed his eyes and waited for a certain amount of sobriety to come back to him. Once he was sure he was thinking clearly enough that his half baked plans were shaping up to be something doable, if still insane, he stood up and started packing up supplies.

A sleeping bag, some clothes and some rations all carefully placed in a bag later, Castiel was ready to sneak out. He knew already that the front door was a sure fire way to be caught immediately, and furthermore that Dean would likely see fit to limit his movements much more severely if he knew that Cas was in all honesty about to desert. Luckily, the window would work just as well.

Cas climbed out carefully and then pulled his gun out of his belt before remembering Dean’s habit of taking the bullets out and cursing him briefly. There was nothing for it but to visit supplies and take what ammunition he could find. He walked with confidence through the camp, and none of the people on control, mostly Crowley’s men and women, stopped to question what he was doing. It wasn’t long until he found the supplies and had enough ammunition to feel confident that he could make his way into the city without being killed.

When he walked out of the supplies cabin, it was to find Jo standing in front of the door. Cas came to a stand still, knowing he was caught red handed and desperately searching for some explanation that Jo would actually believe.

“I know you’re not running away,” said Jo after a second of letting Cas squirm. “So how about you tell me what the hell is going on, and I don’t shout for backup. Sound like a deal?”

Castiel nodded, placing his gun back in his belt to emphasize the point that he meant to proceed peacefully. Jo rolled her eyes at the gesture, but something in her stance seemed to relax a little. It was wise of her to remain a certain amount of wariness when it came to Castiel. That didn’t make it easier to see.

“Dean wants to cancel my part in securing the city,” said Castiel. “I decided to take matters into my own hands.”

“Why would he do that?”

“You know why,” said Cas flatly. “He thinks he’s protecting me. He thinks he’s doing the right thing. But the right thing is to save as many people as possible. It isn’t to save-“

Cas cut himself off. Jo had no trouble finishing the sentence.

“To save you,” said Jo. “Cas, I am not helping you on some suicide mission. I expect a damn plan, okay?”

“I didn’t ask for your help. You’re not coming with me,” said Cas.

“Like hell, I’m not.”

“You’re a captain now. People are depending on you. Besides, it’s the position you envied for years, and you’ll lose it if you come with me.”

“Yeah well, maybe I just wasn’t cut out for management,” said Jo. “Maybe I wasn’t cut out for a lot of things.”

“What about Charlie? She won’t know where you’ve gone.”

“I have a feeling she’ll figure it out,” said Jo. “Besides… I don’t think Charlie and I are gonna work out.”

“Did she-?”

“No. No, she’s been walking on damn egg shells around me. She’s trying so hard and it still isn’t working,” said Jo. “Sometimes love isn’t enough, y’know?”

“Is that why you want to run away?”

Jo’s eyes snapped up, and Castiel felt a tingle of fear work its way up his spine, despite himself.

“Try to do your whole ‘I’m an expert on human suffering’ thing on me, and I stab you somewhere nonlethal,” she said. “I’m coming along because you’re my friend. End of story.”

There was no reasonable way to turn her down. The more he thought about it, the more Castiel realized what an asset Jo could be. She knew the city better than he did. She knew how to blend in and who was resistance. Jo could slip from persona to persona with ease, and was five times the spy that Castiel could ever be. Convincing the soldiers to stand down was something only Castiel could do, but infiltrating the city and getting the opportunity to speak with various garrisons… Jo could be more than just helpful to him.

“You know what you’re giving up,” Castiel said after a moment. “For the resistance or not, this is treason. And helping Kelly is another a strike they will hold over your head. Dean might not be able to let you back after this is all over.”

“Hey,” said Jo with a shrug. “Go big or go home, right?”

APRIL 28, 111 A.L. - SUPERBIA

“Hannah?” Castiel called quietly from the alleyway he had been waiting in. The soldier passing by stopped and turned to look at him. She glanced around quickly and then darted into the alley out of sight. She had but to lift the sunglasses she was wearing for Cas to be entirely certain of who he was talking to. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“What are you doing here?” Hannah whispered. “If she finds you-“

“We have much larger problems than Naomi,” said Cas urgently. “The resistance are fighting in Inividia-“

“We know,” said Hannah. Cas raised an eyebrow. “We know some of it. Last report we were winning the confrontation.”

“I doubt that,” said Cas. “They know Zachariah’s tricks and they aren’t afraid to kill. Invidia is going to fall, and then they will march on to Superbia and the same will happen here. But we can stop it.”

“Castiel, are you under the impression that I don’t know you are one of them?” asked Hannah, her tone bitter. “Balthazar told me everything. For… for everything you’ve done for all of us, I will never turn against you. But I am not helping them. I am still a soldier of the state, always and forever.”

“Naomi killed Samandriel, Hannah,” said Cas. “She poisoned me, and sent me to my death. That is who you are defending. Not the state.”

“Naomi is the rightful ruler of the state, and she-“

“There is no state,” said Cas loudly. Too loudly. He and Hannah fell silent immediately and waited, holding there breath. No footsteps sounded and after thirty seconds of listening they let themselves relax again. “The state as we know it never existed. Not really.”

“And what will happen if we tear it down?”

“We can start over again-“

“Or we let chaos rule over the people we’re supposed to be protecting,” said Hannah. “I won’t help you, and I won’t hurt them.”

“Hannah, I would never ask that of you,” said Cas reaching forward and letting out a sigh as Hannah flinched away from him. “I just… when the fighting starts, all you have to do is surrender. Refuse to fight.”

“Then what?” asked Hannah. “Watch as they kill those the rest of us?”

“Hannah-“

“You’ve changed since you’ve been gone, Cas,” said Hannah. “You used to be… more caring.”

“I have never stopped caring. I am only here because if there is anything I can do to stop all of you from dying, I will do it. I’ll find you every day and beg you to surrender because that is the only way you’ll survive. I love you all, you must remember that.”

“I do,” said Hannah after a moment. “But you always loved Anna best.”

Castiel frowned, trying to trace the change in conversation.

“And Anna did die for the resistance,” said Hannah. “You need them to win. For her.”

“She has nothing to do with this. And we weren’t- I never-“

“So her death means something, so that your pain means something,” said Hannah. “Because otherwise she’s just another person who picked the losing side in a pointless conflict and died a sad and pointless death. I ache when I remember her, Castiel. But I didn’t abandon my post.”

“Would you have? If our commander had asked you?” asked Castiel. “I failed to follow out orders. It was escape or die and Anna told me to live. Wouldn’t you have done the same, if she had asked you?”

The look Hannah gave him made Castiel feel very small. He may be certain in his convictions, but he would be lying if he did not admit that doubt was as constant a companion as certainty and had been for some while. The knowledge that Hannah did not possess the words nor the opportunity to sway him back to her side didn’t matter. All she had to do was look at him for Castiel to know how far apart they had grown.

“If you had asked me,” she said at last, and the admission caught Castiel off guard. “There was a time, Castiel, that we would have done anything for you. Even Alexis and Uriel.”

“And now?” Castiel asked.

“I don’t see the same man staring back at me,” said Hannah. Her sadness spoke volumes. “You look like death warmed over. If that’s what leaving did to you, what is it going to do to all of us?”

“I’m asking you to live, Hannah,” Cas said. “That’s all. And to tell the others that if they lay their weapons down, no harm will come to them. I promise.”

“And if these people are lying to you?” asked Hannah. “You may trust them now, but I don’t. The state is not perfect, but they have not done the damage that your so called resistance has, and you do not know the horror that Invidia is now. You can’t ask us not to fight-“

“But I am,” said Castiel. “You don’t know the half of what the state has done. They take children and experiment on them so they can have weapons. They- they tortured me half out of my mind. Naomi did herself. If you think that is worth protecting or that you are saving anyone, then you are not the person I thought you were Hannah.”

But by the expression on her face, Castiel knew that Hannah did know. She knew all too well.

“It’s still better than nothing,” she said. “And that’s what we’ll have, when they win. Nothing.”

“Then take me in,” said Cas. “If that’s truly what you believe, bring me into Naomi.”

Hannah looked at her radio and shook her head.

“You’re a coward,” he said.

All that got was a a blank look.

“You think I don’t know that?” she asked a moment later. “Cas, I am terrified of what is coming. I know we are going to lose. And I know what losing is going to do Balthazar and Hael and Benjamin and… You think I don’t want to just make it all go away? That’s not our place, to make the decisions.”

“Your title is commander,” Castiel pointed out. “Command.”

“It should have been you in charge.”

“Hannah-“

“I’ll tell the others what you said,” she said. “But I can’t promise anything.”

“They’ll hear anyway,” said Cas. “This is just a courtesy call. The entire city is going to hear what I have to say.”

“You’re going to do something stupid, aren’t you?”

Castiel was surprised when Hannah broke the careful distance between them and hugged him. He hugged her back tentatively, and ignored the tears he saw when she stopped and took a step back.

“I’ll see you on the other side of all of this,” said Cas to his old friend.

“One way or another,” Hannah agreed. “I’ll tell Balthazar you said hello.”

“Make up something nice from me,” Castiel said with a sad smile. “You should be getting back on patrol.”

Hannah’s back stiffened and she walked away without another word, weapon in hand and eyes back to scanning the streets. Castiel carefully picked his way back to Jo’s car, which was still running. The second he was inside, Jo was driving back towards the resistance’s headquarters within the city. Hopefully Gabriel would have completed his part of the plans while Castiel had been talking with Hannah.

“How did it go?”

“She didn’t shoot me.”

“So, well?” Jo asked. Cas shrugged. “It went well. Got it.”

Castiel looked out of the passenger window to see the city and scared civilians passing by. They were one of many cars and had fake documents proving themselves citizens, but no one stopped them to ask for them. Jo drove like a true Superbian, calmly and with sudden bursts of outrageous maneuvering to get ahead.

“How long do you think we have before Gabriel tells Dean where we are?”

“Cas, Gabriel has definitely already told him where we are,” said Jo. “Dean can’t drag us back without it looking like he’s lost control of us in front of Crowley’s guys. Which means-“

“He has to let us stick to the plan.”

“Essentially,” said Jo. “You ready for that? The plan I mean.”

“As ready as I will be.”

“Well, glad I risked everything on a maybe,” said Jo, before passing a car she had deemed to be going too slowly and nearly running into someone in the opposite lane before swooping back. “This is going to be fun.”

MAY 5, 111 A.L. - SUPERBIA

Waiting for news of what had happened in Invidia while planning a full scale invasion of Naomi’s headquarters to happen ahead of the planned resistance invasion had not done wonders for Castiel’s sleeping schedule. Jo had taken to offering him sleeping pills and more than once tore him away from planning with Gabriel and Kali to force him to eat. Meanwhile, she roamed the streets and found those she knew to be sympathetic to the resistance cause and with access to soldiers (who had to be housed in some civilian homes due to the influx of garrisons to Superbia). If all went well, a large portion of the army would be somewhat softened towards Castiel’s point of view, or at least willing to consider it.

When news had hit that Invidia had fallen, the resistance headquarters within Superbia had been thrown into overdrive. Gabriel and Kali had hardly let their men celebrate the news before he was putting them to work. They would have two days before they could expect Mary Winchester’s forces to connect with the army Dean had amassed, and perhaps a day more before they attacked. Once they had attacked, Castiel’s chance to resolve the conflict would be over.

“Blue eyes, blondie,” Gabriel called out to Jo and Castiel. “Meeting.”

Castiel stood and helped Jo up. They quickly made their way across the crowded room where plans were being checked and double checked and contacts were being called. The highest operative Gabriel had in the system, Inias, was being sent his final instructions for letting Castiel and Jo into the building. It was pure pandemonium.

There was blessed silence for a moment when Gabriel shut the door behind them.

“This better work,” Gabriel muttered to himself. “Jesus Christ this better work.”

Gabriel had been less than inclined to help them when he had learned that Jo and Castiel were, to put it mildly, going rogue. He had changed his mind when he learned of the cost of Dean winning the city and Castiel had come up with a possible way out of the contract Dean had signed.

“Dean would need to win the city,” he had said. “But if they surrender to someone other than him, the clause would be null and void.”

“He’s not wrong,” Jo had added, seeming to be thinking hard. “If Naomi surrenders to you-“

“The city changes management instead of being defeated,” Castiel had said. “The resistance accept the change and-“

“We keep our damn home the way it is,” Gabriel had finished. “I am going to shoot that son of a bitch.”

“Crowley?”

“Dean. The hell does he think he’s doing making a deal like that without running it by me. This is my city,” said Gabriel. “He better hope I shoot him somewhere lethal too, because Kali-“

“Can speak for herself,” Kali had said, sounding equally pissed. “And skinning would be involved. Also, fire.”

“I think Dean assumed you would prefer this to certain death,” Castiel had said. “What I’m proposing is a long shot, to say the least.”

“Wasn’t it Dean’s idea in the first place?” Kali asked.

“To have less people fighting against us. He didn’t expect a total surrender.”

“Because it’s impossible,” Gabriel had said. “But it looks like we’re gonna try. Pack your guns and candy bars, kiddos, this is gonna get interesting.”

And now here they were, having set the date for the infiltration the next day and thoroughly underprepared. There was no method of extraction if anything went wrong. There was no method of protecting the identities of those they would need to use to get in. If Castiel failed, a lot of people might die. He knew the only reason they were siding with him over a surefire victory with the resistance is because they didn’t want to lose their home. There was no knowing what Crowley might do with Superbia once it was his.

“Castiel, tell me you wrote down what you’re going to say,” Gabriel said to start the meeting. Castiel looked down sheepishly. “You’re fucking kidding me.”

“I have an outline.”

“An outline. This motherfucker tells me he has an outline. Kill me now,” mutter Gabriel to Kali.

“I don’t want to sound rehearsed.”

“I do want you to sound rehearsed. Like you put some thought into it. Cassie, this is a manifesto of sorts in which you’re asking a city to change literally everything they think they know about themselves and a lot of trained soldiers to stop shooting things. This is an uphill battle at a ninety degree incline.”

“I don’t want to sound rehearsed,” Castiel repeated. “Because I’ll sound like I’m lying.”

Gabriel let out a sigh.

“He’s not wrong,” Jo said. “Cas does his best work off the top of his head. Can’t overthink it that way.”

“Thank you, Jo.”

“Not a compliment,” Jo said, though she nudged his arm with a degree of affection. “If anyone can do it, though, he can.”

Kali raised her hand a moment to catch their attention and then pointed to a screen in front of her. It was showing a circle popping up indicating incoming communication.

“Time to share our plans with Winchester,” she said icily. As soon as he was on camera, her face switched over to politely blank. “Dean. I’m glad you returned my call.”

“Oh god, I don’t want to ask what this is,” muttered Dean at the other end, picking up on Kali’s tone immediately. “First thing first. How are the two stupidest people I know doing?”

“We’re awesome,” Jo supplied. “We’re going to take down Superbia all by ourselves.”

Dean paused, and Castiel took the time to admire the range of emotions he went through. Disbelief, acceptance, anger, sheer exhaustion.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Please tell me you aren’t letting Jo and Cas make some insane attempt to take down Naomi.”

“You didn’t mention to us what would happen to Superbia if we accepted your help,” Kali replied. “Consider it denied. In fact, consider any kind of alliance we currently have… what was the phrase you used Castiel?”

“Null and void.”

“That,” said Kali. “Would be the one. You want to make contracts with Canada? Fine. But don’t expect us to play nice.”

“Oh, I never expect that from you Kali,” said Dean. “Fine. I’ll hold off until this plan fails miserably. But you call me when it does. And Gabriel?”

“Yes?” Gabriel said.

“You make sure that Jo and Cas get out of this alive,” said Dean. “If I think for one second their safety is not your top fucking priority, I don’t give a damn which side you’re fighting on. I will invade the damn city. Is that clear?”

“Crystal,” said Gabriel. “Besides, no need to worry. Girl wonder here is more than capable of looking after herself and lover boy all on her lonesome. You did let him down easy, right?”

“When the plan fails, call us in,” said Dean, shutting the call down. Gabriel looked over at Cas.

“Do I have to castrate him?”

“There is nothing going on between-“

“It’s fine. They’re engaged,” said Jo, smirking at Cas’ annoyance.

“That is a ruse which no longer matters, as Crowley’s fondness for Dean is no longer an issue. If the king is murdered, it will be his own fault.”

“There are like twenty different things I didn’t understand there,” said Gabriel, suddenly looking very interested. “We have some time to kill. Tell me everything.”

“Go to hell,” said Cas, standing up to leave. “Kali, I’ll meet you in the morning at the arranged time. Jo, don’t-“

Cas swallowed hard, a shiver of superstition stealing the word from his lips. Don’t say it, don’t fear it and it will not find you.

“Yeah, you too,” Jo said, her understanding clear. He nodded at her curtly, then made his way back to his room. To his surprise, sleep came easily to him for the first time in weeks, as did his dreams.

***************

The garden Castiel had grown used to was gone, replaced by a blackness so complete he found it folding in on him. A feeling of claustrophobic smallness took over him as he contemplated the abyss and it was a relief when he saw Anna rise from the inky blackness. Her lips were blue and her hair frayed and partly missing. Her skin sagged and her wounds were worn matter of factly.

She was dead. Not in the act of dying anymore, merely dead. Thoroughly after the fact. She smiled at him, her missing teeth doing nothing to alter her beauty.

“Anna,” said Castiel.

“Something like that,” she said. “I’m more you than me, now, I think. It happens. Memories fade and you invent stories to replace the people you’re grieving. Reimagine them into something you can bear to live without. Or something you can’t.”

“Last time, you said you would help me. I- I need that now. I need strength.”

Anna walked closer, her bones cracking under her own weight, and her lips splitting as she tried to smile at him. The all consuming darkness that surrounded them seemed to eat away at her at times before allowing her wholeness once again.

“You’ve never lacked in strength,” Anna said. “What you need is this.”

Anna took his hand and placed it against his chest. It took an eternity to understand the stillness there. Her skin shrunk around her bones as she stood in front of him, and Cas was faced with what could most accurately be described as a mummified animal. Were it not for the tufts of red hair still clinging to Anna’s scalp, he might not have known it was still her.

“This is death, Cas,” she said. “Take a good long look at it.”

It was true Castiel could understand the horror in this. But he could also understand the appeal. It was quiet here, and Cas had been tired for so long. Surely it would be alright to rest, just for a little while.

Anna faded into dust and blew away in a nonexistent wind. The blackness swallowed her once more, and Castiel was left only with a profound sense of emptiness. In his dreams he waited, bearing the impressive weight of his nightmare in silence until he could bear it no longer.

He screamed.

The world around him fractured and Castiel was standing once again in the garden, near the apple tree. Relief coursed through him.

“Do you want to be born again, Castiel?” Anna’s voice echoed around him. She did not appear again and Castiel did not answer her.

***************

MAY 6, 111 A.L. - SUPERBIA

The plan was simple. Painfully simple. It was the kind of plan only very desperate or very stupid people attempted.

Castiel wasn’t sure which of these he was. Looking back, he was sure there was ample evidence for either or perhaps both. He knew the more reasonable people who had known him, Anna or Balthazar or Dean for that matter, would say stupidity each and every time. Someone with a little more tact might say he was just naive. Perhaps Samandriel would have branded him an optimist; he’d always been frighteningly kind that way before Castiel had gotten him killed.

Naomi knew he was coming, and Castiel knew Naomi knew he was coming. That had been the trade off for sending secret messages among the soldiers. Since Naomi knew they were coming, her headquarters had unsurprisingly been fortified even further than it had originally been. Because of this, the plan was to draw as many soldiers as possible out with a distraction led by Jo. Then they would make their way in via a side entrance and a series of spies that Kali had been in communication with. Once Castiel was through Naomi’s door, all he had to do was point a gun in her direction and ask for access to the citywide communication system at her disposal. Simple.

Castiel had known the execution would not be as straightforward as the plan, and even a best case scenario would involve serious conflict. Everything going wrong was not just in the realm of possibility, but more likely than not. Still, he hadn’t thought even the worst case scenario would involve everything going wrong quite so quickly.

The moment he got in the car with Kali, someone that had been lurking in the backseat wound a hand over his mouth with a strong smelling cloth pressed under his nose. Cas’ attempts to flail out were stymied by a sudden tiredness that rapidly stole his strength. He slumped down, trying to slur out a request for help from Kali before he passed out entirely.

He didn’t wake up until what must have been about twenty minutes later. When he did, he immediately tried to grab for a weapon, only to realize that his wrists and ankles had been tied together and he was slung over someone’s shoulder. He struggled uselessly to get free, shouting at the top of his lungs. Every scream was muffled by the thick tape that had been placed over his mouth. His vision started to white out at the corners as panic overtook him, and it was only with great effort he remembered his breathing exercises so he wouldn’t pass out again.

By the time he had somewhat averted another panic attack, he had been carried into an elevator with a familiar pair of shoes walking in with them. Castiel struggled to look up and saw Kali’s grim face looking back at him.

“For what it’s worth,” she said when he wouldn’t stop staring at her, as uncomfortable as it was to crane his neck up to do so. “I am sorry about this. But this is my city and I am not letting anyone take it away. And I’m not stupid. When the cards are down, no one knows where your loyalties lie, Cas. I can’t risk your plan going wrong.”

Castiel narrowed his eyes at her.

“Put yourself in my position and I think you might start to understand that I didn’t have a choice,” she said, a hint of shame working it’s way through. But she was proud and she kept her chin up. “If I know anything about you, I know that in my position you would do the same.”

Castiel went entirely limp, then swung up trying to use his momentum to knock his captor off balance. It worked to a point, and he was dropped to the floor and landed hard on his tailbone, which sent shooting pains up his back. His first attempt to get up was stopped when he was hit hard on the back of the head with the butt of a gun. He was stunned, and fell back to the ground staring up at the ceiling and willing the spots in front of his eyes to go away.

“Sorry, Kali,” muttered whoever had been holding him. One of Kali’s men surely, but not Gabriel which Castiel took some measure of perhaps unearned comfort in. Perhaps this was a one-sided mutiny rather than a betrayal, and Jo would be alright even if the distraction she was providing would be for nothing.

That hope was short-lived. Castiel was hauled up and thrown over the man’s shoulder again when the elevator stopped going up. The doors opened and Castiel recognized with a sinking feeling what building and floor he had been taken to. If that was not enough, Naomi’s expectant face and the sight of a bruised, bloodied, and tied up Jo was enough for Castiel to start struggling anew. This time the man carrying him was ready for it and hit him on the head again, causing a fresh wave of pain.

He was deposited on the floor next to Jo, who looked like a wild thing caged. He raised an eyebrow at her and looked at her hands, hoping against hope she had some kind of plan to get out of this. She shook her head slightly, and the two had a mutual realization that they were powerless and at the hands of their enemy with no rescue coming.

“I’m glad you saw things my way,” Naomi said to Kali, who for her part looked mostly disgusted to be working with the current mayor of Superbia. She crossed her arms, unimpressed, and didn’t deign to respond to Naomi. Instead she looked toward one of the other women under her command.

“Gabriel is…?”

“Following orders,” she confirmed. She looked for a moment like she was hesitating to add something. “He isn’t happy about this, Kali.”

“As long as he’s doing what he’s told, I don’t give a damn,” Kali said. She finally turned to look at Naomi. “Our amnesty for your hostages. We help you defend the city, and when this is over, every citizen who is a member of the resistance is forgiven for all crimes. Including members currently imprisoned. I hope that’s still the deal, Naomi.”

Kali’s voice was softly threatening. Naomi smiled at her, no less predatory.

“I keep to my agreements, as you well know,” Naomi said. “We’ve done this before, Kali. If I remember correctly, you got too fond of one of your spies. You certainly paid a hefty price for Gabriel when we caught him.”

“Are we done here?” Kali asked. Naomi nodded, and Kali left unceremoniously, her men trailing behind her. Castiel spent the seconds it took her to leave wishing for a series of unpleasant and mostly violent things on her and Gabriel within his head. Once the elevator doors had closed behind her, he was forced to once again think about where he was and what he could possibly do to get out of it.

Naomi nodded to two of her guards. They lifted Jo and Cas to their feet in a not so gentle fashion and dragged them into Naomi’s office. With another nod, the tape was pulled off of both of their faces. Naomi sat down behind her desk and steepled her hands together, surveying the both of them. Her eyes fell on Castiel, and something like distaste lingered in her expression.

Cas did his best to spit in her direction. It was an ultimately useless gesture, and Naomi looked more annoyed than offended, but he was still glad he’d done it.

“I am curious, Castiel,” said Naomi after a moment. “Just how long were you working for Mary Winchester and her armies?”

Castiel didn’t say anything. Naomi sighed and took a tool out of her desk. It was a long stick with two prongs at the end which zapped in midair as Naomi pressed a button. Castiel watched warily as she approached him, their eyes fixed on each other. At the last moment, her arm flew out, the cattle prod in hand. Cas flinched back, waiting to be hit only to realize that Jo was the one letting out a shriek of pain.

“No,” Castiel shouted. Naomi smiled at him.

“How long?”

“Just before the last mission you sent me on. When I came back and you told me to kill Dean,” Castiel answered quickly. He tried to swallow down his shame when Jo looked at him quizzically. “Before that, I still reported to you. I promise that’s the truth.”

“And Zachariah?”

“I never worked for him.”

Naomi frowned a little, but nodded to herself. She circled around them once, taking stock of him and Jo. She stopped in front of Castiel once more.

“Why did you turn?” she asked at last. Castiel looked up at her, defiant despite the hopelessness of the situation.

“I know about the children,” said Castiel. “They were the state’s. We were the ones experimenting on them and you demanded we kill them because of your mistakes. You-“

“A moral stance,” said Naomi. “How quaint.”

“The state is supposed to be moral.”

“The state is supposed to serve the greater good,” Naomi corrected him. “It’s as the saying goes, sometimes you need to break a few eggs. Even the resistance, for all the flaws in their thinking, knows that.”

“We don’t kill kids,” Jo said, looking at Naomi directly. “And we don’t brainwash people either, you fucking creep.”

Castiel shouted as the cattle prod was pushed into his skin. Naomi looked back at the now much quieter Jo.

“I’m sure the two of you have figured out how this works,” she said. Neither of them answered. Any word out of place meant punishment for the other person. “Good. Now, I am going to be broadcasting to the city. I know some of the soldiers are expecting Castiel’s grand speech, but I’m afraid I’ll have to use the time to deliver an ultimatum.”

“You can’t stop them,” said Cas. “You aren’t getting out of this one alive, Naomi.”

“We’ll see,” said Naomi. She sat behind her desk and then activated a program which started the broadcast. She kept the cattle prod in clear sight to warn Jo and Castiel into silence. As soon as the program was up and running, she started speaking. Castiel knew her message would be broadcast on every television and radio in Superbia.

“Citizens of Superbia, I am addressing you today to let you know that our city is under attack. These dangerous militias that have formed completely outside of the realms of state law have made an illicit deal with a foreign power, namely the kingdom of Canada. The details of this deal have been brought to my attention and are frankly alarming. If the so called resistance is to take Superbia, the city will be forfeit to Canada all in exchange for a mercenary army meant to defeat the garrisons that are in the city. I know these past few months have been difficult and our misery has seemed endless, but this is our home. No matter your other sentiments regarding me or the state, I think we can all agree on this point. I am asking each and every one of you listening to think long and hard what losing might mean, and I urge you to fight if not for the state, for your home.”

Naomi paused then, pressing a button on her screen which caused it to switch directions. Castiel could see himself and Jo present on the screen.

“And to those forces that would invade the city,” said Naomi next. “I have in my possession two high profile hostages. Castiel and Jo Harvelle. As I understand it, Dean Winchester and Ellen Harvelle have more than enough motive to spare these two lives. I want to be clear: the only way both of them are getting out alive is if I have a total surrender by resistance forces within forty eight hours. After that I will kill one of the hostages. If no surrender has been offered within an additional twenty four hours, both of them will be dead.”

Jo and Cas looked at each other. Jo nodded and Cas nodded after her.

“Invade the city,” Jo shouted at the camera. “Don’t-“

Castiel tried to stop himself from shouting as Naomi used the cattle prod on him. A second later, she switched off the broadcast and placed the screen away. She looked up coolly at the both of them, and gestured towards them. The guards were lifting them onto their feet immediately.

“Put them in a cell,” she said. Cas and Jo were dragged once again from the room, kicking and screaming as they tried to fight their way out. Of course, fighting while you are outnumbered and tied up is about as effective as a tantrum would be, but still Castiel strained at his ropes and did his best to hurt the people guarding them as much as possible.

Once they were placed into the jail cell and the key was turned, there was nothing left to fight. In all probability, he and Jo were going to die here.

“I was right,” Jo said after a moment. “When I shot you. You knew how guilty I felt about that.”

“I tried to tell you-“

“You were fucking delirious.”

“And you said you would forgive me,” said Castiel. “I understand if you don’t, but I took you at your word. You didn’t want to know.”

Jo sighed and looked away.

“‘Course I forgive you,” she muttered to herself. “I’m just pissed, that’s all.”

“If it’s all the same to you,” said Castiel. “Can we pretend you’re not? At least until this is over? If I’m going to die, I’d rather at least pretend we’re on speaking terms.”

“We’re not going to die.”

“You don’t know that,” Castiel said. “They aren’t going to surrender. It’s not even a possibility.”

“Someone’s coming to rescue us, just you watch,” Jo said, sounding more hopeful than she looked. Cas closed his eyes and leaned back against the cell wall. “We have two days, Cas. We’re going to get out of here.”

Cas looked at the bars of the cell and was less than convinced.

“Or we’re going to die here,” he pointed out.

“Or that,” said Jo grudgingly. The two looked out of the bars of their cells and waited as the hours started counting down. Castiel didn’t say it out loud again, but he couldn’t shake the deep conviction that no one was coming.


	11. The Chillest Land (Part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please see the end notes for warnings if you need them.

MAY 7, 111 A.L. - SUPERBIA

Jo had managed to find a sharp edge on one of the bars and worked at freeing herself from her ropes for three hours while ignoring Castiel’s tired lack of motivation to do anything at all. It must have been very late at night when she finally let out a little cry of triumph, pulling her hands from behind her back and rubbing at her wrists. She unlaced her boots and removed them so she would be able to slip the ropes on her ankles. Then she took a knife hidden in the heel of her boot and walked over to Castiel.

“Hold still,” she said, slicing the ropes around his wrists quickly and efficiently before doing the same with the ones around his ankles. “Okay. Now we just have to figure out how to get out of here.”

“We can’t get out of here,” said Castiel dully. “And even if we could, what would it matter?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jo asked flatly, pausing in her exploration of the cell door for weak spots. “Of course it matters. We have to get out so we can help-“

“Who exactly?” Cas asked loudly. “Kali is working with Naomi. We tried to outwit the deal Dean made with Crowley, I doubt the soldiers from the mercenary army he sent are going to treat us kindly. Mary knows at this point that we disobeyed orders again. This is a standoff, and we are not on anyone’s good side.”

“Dean’s gonna have our backs,” said Jo. “And my mom is out there. If I don’t get out of this alive, she’s going to kill me.”

“I’m sorry,” said Cas. “But no one gets out of these cells, unless they’re being transferred to prison. And I don’t think they have any intention of moving us. It’s easier to just shoot us while we’re behind the bars.”

“I can-“

“You’ll dull your knife trying to pick the lock,” said Cas. “And it’s weighted, so a hairpin will be useless. If you have any other ideas…”

“Sucker the guards. Some of them have to know you-”  
“You think Naomi left us with people who are in any way sympathetic?” scoffed Cas. “Jo, they do not care if you die. They know Mary won’t surrender. This is just to buy them time, and chances are they think you’re dead already. We can’t escape. We won’t be rescued.”

Jo’s hands tightened into fists.

“Well, I guess that means I have nothing to lose,” she said. “Good thing these morons don’t know a home made bomb when they see one.”

Jo reached for her shoe and pulled out what Cas recognized was one of Jess and Cordy’s improvised explosives. It was unassuming looking, and he wasn’t surprised it hadn’t been confiscated from her, even if it had been found in her shoes. It looked like a packet of gel meant to cushion feet, and Jo had likely been using it for that exact purpose, but place it in the vicinity of an open flame and it packed a punch.

“How is blowing ourselves up a solution,” Castiel said warily. Jo tossed the packet to the opposite side of the cell and pushed Castiel towards the corner as she took a lighter from her pocket. She kissed it once, opened it and lit a flame. Then she threw it across the cell with unerring aim.

“Jo-“

The resounding boom was enough to leave Cas’ ears ringing. It took a moment before he felt the pain of small pieces of metal that had embedded themselves in his skin. He looked at Jo, who was likewise injured and letting out a string of curse words.

“Are you okay?” Cas asked.

“That really fucking hurt,” Jo said. “Please tell me it worked.”

Cas’ eyes darted towards the part of the cell Jo had blown up. Something like hope started to burn in his chest.

“You can fit through,” he said after a second, casually. Jo froze as she understood the implication. Even at his thinnest and most sickly, Castiel would not have been able to fit through the gap. “Barely.”

“No, that is not-“

“You can fit,” Castiel repeated. “But you don’t have much time. Someone will have heard that.”

“If you think for a second I’m leaving you here-“

“Your mother would never forgive you if she knew you had a chance to escape and you didn’t take it,” said Castiel, trying not to let his desperation show through. “And neither will I. Do you understand?”

“No.”

“Please don’t make me watch another friend die, Jo,” said Cas. “I don’t think I’ll survive it this time.”

“Fuck you, you know that? I am coming back with help, and you have to promise me that you’ll- That you won’t-“

“Promise,” Castiel said without hesitation. “Jo, you need to leave now.”

Jo tugged her shoe back on aggressively and made her way over to the hole that had been blasted in the cell. She just barely managed to wiggle through, and by the time she had there were voices getting louder as someone came to investigate the loud noise. Jo took the opposite hallway, and had a two minute head start before the people in charge of watching them finally saw fit to check if the prisoners were the one who had set off the explosion instead of checking the perimeter. Castiel followed their instructions, falling to the ground with his hands clearly visible.

“What happened?” asked a voice sharply. She spoke with easy command, but there was a tremor that ran under her confidence that told Cas she knew just how bad whatever had happened was.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” answered Cas. “I’m just a hostage.”

“Where is the girl?” she asked.

“What girl?”

“You may not be afraid to die, soldier, but there are many other things that strike fear into a man’s heart.”

“If you had eyes, you wouldn’t resort to threatening torture so quickly,” said Cas, managing a bored and dismissive tone. “You heard an explosion, investigated and then found a prisoner missing. Obviously there was a rescue mission that you failed to intercept. They’ve likely already left the building. The chances of catching them are decreasing by the second and you’re going to torture me, as though that’s a good use of your time.”

“There wasn’t a rescue mission,” said the woman, though she sounded far less confident now. “There’s been no movement into the city since Naomi’s offer.”

“If you think so.”

“They left you behind?” asked another voice, this one belonging to a much younger soldier. Castiel turned to look at him and was surprised to see the same face he’d seen the first time he ever saw Jo. It was the soldier in training who had caught him in Ernie’s and reported his whereabouts. Seeing him was like seeing someone from a different lifetime. That he recognized Cas (and Jo too) was not only certain, but likely the only reason he had been assigned to watch them. He’s still too young, Castiel thought to himself bitterly.

“I’ve outgrown my use,” said Castiel. “Why would they save me?”

“Intelligence informs us that you-“ the woman broke off uncertainly, obviously thrown by Castiel’s conviction that no one would be coming to even attempt to save him. “Naomi is under the impression- We know you’ve entered an engagement with Mary Winchester’s son.”

He wondered if this particular leak in information came directly from Crowley’s people and was indicative of a coming betrayal, or if Crowley himself had shared the information with Naomi as his idea of a joke. Perhaps someone in Crowley’s court had reported it in the hopes that Naomi would support a coup against Crowley.

“Of course,” Castiel said instead. “We were playing poker, and he doesn’t know when to stop betting.”

The woman just looked confused at this point.

“I’m kidding. No, I am not engaged to Dean. That would be an idiotic move on his part,” said Castiel. “I’m a spy, and everyone from Naomi to the lowest ranked soldiers knows that I no longer work for the state. I am useless to him, and to the resistance in general. So if we are done with the interrogation, I was planning on sitting here and contemplating my growing sense of existential dread and I would like do so in quiet.”

“You think you’re very funny, don’t you?”

“On occasion,” said Cas. The soldier stared him down and then motioned towards the other soldiers to continue their searching. She held back the too young soldier Castiel had recognized and another soldier who was in his forties. Cas was a little angry to see they had rated him as ‘not a threat’, considering that was the only excuse to leave some of their weakest members to escort him.

She opened the door to the cell. It took more effort than she was expecting, apparently, because she grimaced as she finally shook the door open, only to watch it fall off of its hinges. The door made a resounding clang as it landed on the floor. She looked up at Cas. “I didn’t touch it.”

She rolled her eyes at him, and looked back at the two soldiers. Both of them moved forwards, and Castiel glared at them warily.

“There’s an easy and a hard way to do this,” the older one pointed out, taking out what looked to be a taser. Castiel looked at it, then back at the soldier.

“I can walk,” he said at last. The soldier let out a little sigh of relief, which Castiel puzzled himself over.

“Take him to Naomi,” said the woman, after checking her earpiece. “She wants to speak with him.”

The younger soldier walked over to Castiel and helped him to his feet.

“How old are you?” Castiel asked him. The boy blinked at him.

“Seventeen,” he said. “They let me move up from training early on account of… reporting you in.”

“You’re a child. You shouldn’t be in combat,” said Cas. The boy’s face screwed up belligerently, and he crossed his arms in a manner that was most accurately described as petulant.

“I’m not a child.”

The older soldier snorted under his breath. He was obviously in agreement with Castiel that this kid was far too young for his position. It was standard protocol to wait until soldiers in training were at least eighteen before they were allowed in uniform, and after that it usually still took three or four years to assign them to a garrison for active duty. Castiel hadn’t been assigned to his first garrison until he was twenty two.

“I’m not,” the boy loudly insisted to his partner. “I work just as hard as everybody else.”

“Who are you convincing, Jack?” chided the older soldier, who moved forward and pushed Castiel ahead of the two of them, keeping the taser pressed to Castiel’s back, likely in case he ‘tried something’. “Why do you care what a traitor thinks?”

Jack mumbled something that was mostly incoherent about how he didn’t care, and why didn’t Gadreel shut up about it anyway. The soldier who had told them to bring Castiel up to Naomi told the both of them to make haste and then disappeared after her other soldiers in search of Jo. Cas hoped he had bought her enough time.

They walked down the hallway and then turned into the stairwell.

“Is it true you were having an affair with your old commander and you planned to bring Naomi down together?” asked Jack as they walked down the hallway. Gadreel gave him a quelling look. “I was only wondering.”

“Is that what people are saying?” asked Castiel. Jack shrugged sheepishly. “I suppose it must be true, then.”

“The way I hear it,” Gadreel said. “You knew nothing, and you still didn’t shoot her when you were supposed to.”

“Sounds equally likely,” said Castiel. Gadreel’s grip on his shoulder tightened.

“If you were smart, you would have shot her when you were told to,” said Gadreel. “You’re not the first soldier to fall for a traitor, and you’re not the first to do so with a member of their garrison.”

“I don’t like shooting people,” Castiel said. “And your troubles are not mine. Whoever you have killed, that is for your shoulders. I have my own burdens to bear.”

Castiel thought for a moment that Gadreel might hit him. He didn’t, perhaps too noble to do so or perhaps because he had been ordered not to. Once they reached the upper floors, having taken the stairwell for some reason, Gadreel sent Jack ahead to inform Naomi’s guards of their presence.

“His name was Abner,” said Gadreel.

“Are you asking for my forgiveness?” asked Castiel, baffled. “Why are you telling me this?”

Gadreel looked him straight in the eyes.

“I said it was the smart thing to do,” said Gadreel. “Not the right thing. I regret…”

Gadreel trailed off, then glanced around quickly to make sure no one was listening.

“Inias is safe. Trust no one else,” he said. “Gabriel is looking into getting you and the girl out. Or just you, now.”

“Wait,” Castiel said. “How- this could be a ploy. A trick of Naomi’s. Gabriel turned on me.”

“You have nothing they want that they can’t take from you, if they so wish. There is no need for trickery,” Gadreel pointed out, which was true actually. “Jack told me when he first met you, you risked capture to ensure he wasn’t injured by a resistance member. I have spoken several times to Hannah, and other members of your garrison and they have assured me of your righteousness. Is it enough to say I have respect for you and I wish to make up for my own mistakes by helping you?”

“And Gabriel?”

“He is trying to help as well.”

Before Cas had a chance to respond, Jack had returned.

“We’re clear to go up,” he said. “Are you sure everything’s going to-“

“Jack,” Gadreel broke in sharply. “Remember what I said?”

“Keep quiet,” Jack said through gritted teeth. Castiel realized at that moment that Jack was in on whatever scheme Gadreel and Gabriel and this Inias person had dreamed up. He didn’t like it one bit. “Which I was doing.”

“Which you never do,” Gadreel said back shortly, sounding for all the world what Castiel vaguely remembered his father to be like. Stern and commanding. It was about the only thing he remembered about his father, and he remembered less about his mother.

Gadreel and Jack stopped arguing well ahead of when they might have been heard by Naomi’s guards. They handed Castiel over quietly, and then went off to return to their positions elsewhere. Castiel hadn’t realized that Gadreel had managed to put him at ease slightly until he was gone and Cas was surrounded by hostile faces again.

“What does Naomi want?” he asked out loud. No one answered him. Typical.

It was half an hour of waiting there before someone opened Naomi’s door. Castiel was walked in with someone at either side of him and forced to sit in the chair across from Naomi. His wrists were bound to the arm rests and his ankles tied to the legs of the chair.

“Is this necessary?” he asked her with a sigh. Naomi smiled at him, her face taking on an edge he’d never seen before. “What do you want?”

“A show,” said Naomi. “Your friend escaped-“

“Was rescued,” Castiel corrected, holding to the lie he’d come up with previously to emphasize his uselessness as a hostage. Naomi pointed a remote at a screen, and Castiel saw a replay of Jo blowing up the prison cell. He heard their conversation repeated back to him, and Jo’s promise to come back for him.

“I would refrain from lying to me, Castiel,” said Naomi. “There might be a graceful way out of this for you yet.”

“Forgive me if I find that hard to believe,” said Cas. “I am a traitor in every sense of the word and I despise you.”

“If they surrender, I am going to hand you over,” said Naomi. “So if I were you I’d try to be convincing in your need for rescue.”

“What does that mean?” asked Castiel. Naomi looked at him and then turned the camera system on again. It faced only her, and Castiel wondered if he should yell something. Informing the general citizenry that Jo had escaped seemed as if it would be harmful to her, even if it would be a relief to her mother. Having nothing else newsworthy to share, Castiel decided to pick his battles and remain quiet.

“People of Superbia, I broadcast this for the sake of our enemies,” said Naomi. “We are fast approaching the deadline demanded for a total surrender. I am going to be sharing progress reports in order to demonstrate just how serious I am about this deadline.”

She turned the camera around on Cas. He looked past it at Naomi.

“As you can see he is sound of mind and body,” she said. “Alistair if you will?”

Alistair was a tall and thin man with a reedy voice and a smile that made Castiel feel thoroughly uncomfortable. His name also sounded damned familiar, though Castiel couldn’t quite place it. He reached for a knife at his belt and turned to Naomi.

“Just the one?” he asked.

“For now,” she said with a stiff nod, obviously finding the whole thing distasteful. Castiel wondered what the whole thing might be, and did not have to wait long to find out.

Alistair clamped his hand down over one of Castiel’s and pressed the knife to the back of his hand.

“I’ll tell you what,” Alistair said. “After this first one, I’ll let you decide what gets cut off next.”

“You don’t want to do this, Naomi,” said Castiel immediately, trying to move away and failing mostly due to the fact he was currently tied to a fucking chair. Alastair moved the knife, tapping each of his fingers gently with it, taking his time. “You’re many things, but you don’t shed blood without reason. I won’t win you this war, you have to-“

Castiel cut himself off with a shout as a sharp pain sliced its way up his arm and through his nervous system. Alistair let go off the viselike grip on his hand and Castiel looked down in horror to discover he now only had four fingers on his left hand. Alastair had removed his ring finger, and Castiel detachedly though that perhaps Naomi had a sense of humor after all, considering she was under the impression he and Dean were genuinely engaged. It was a pointed message.

“Slightly less sound of body, now,” Naomi said, once again addressing the camera. “Again, there will be hourly updates as to Castiel’s condition. I would suggest you surrender quickly.”

She closed the broadcast and looked at Castiel who was gritting his teeth against the pain.

“Someone make sure the hostage doesn’t bleed out,” she said, motioning towards Cas. One of the guards hastily wrapped Castiel’s hand in bandages to staunch the bleeding. Cas’ eyes never left Naomi’s.

“What’s the point of all of this?”

“Desperate times,” Naomi said to him. “Like it or not, you mean something to those rebels. They like you. And in case that wasn’t enough of an incentive, I made sure to include someone else that would catch one ex-prisoner’s attention. It’s the details that sell the story, Castiel.”

Alistair. Castiel remembered now what Dean had told him about the prison in Acedia, and the man who had killed other prisoners for fun. Who had tried to kill Dean himself. Castiel looked back towards his would be torturer and wished with all his might that he could break free and return the favor.

“Dean said he killed you.”

“He certainly gave it a try,” said Alistair, pulling his hair aside to reveal ugly, deep scars on the side of his head. “He came very close to bashing my brains out, but stopped in time for me to remain my wonderful self, plus a concussion or two. I’m not surprised he doesn’t remember when I was escorted out for medical attention. He was practically catatonic after killing the others. If what some of the guards told me when I got back is true, he didn’t register much of anything for a good twelve hours after he tried to kill us all. And in the Acedia heat one corpse looks like another before long, and no one really wants to get close enough to count.”

“Alistair was more politically important than we typically allow to go to prison. Of course, usually people a mayor wishes to protect do not have four murders in cold blood under their belt prior to imprisonment,” said Naomi. “According to Nicolas, in prison was the happiest he ever saw his cousin. And it really is much cheaper and better for PR if the prisoners kill each other off than if our people do.”

“So you released a murderer from prison on the off chance that it will make Dean more likely to come to my defense. It sounds like you really are growing desperate, Naomi,” said Castiel. “Even if this works, you must know you won’t win.”

“We’ll see,” said Naomi fiercely, and in spite of everything else Castiel would give her credit for her commitment. She may be a cruel mayor and a complicit part of a broken system, but she could also be every bit the captain who faithfully went down with a sinking ship. There was something vaguely admirable about that. “And in the meantime, I believe you have a choice to make.”

Alistair smiled and started listing options. As the time wore down, Castiel wondered if perhaps Naomi would back off of her insane plan. No such luck, and with five minutes to spare, Alistair made a final offer that Castiel could pick or Alistair would pick for him.

“Toenail,” Castiel said. Alistair didn’t seem put off by the suggestion, and considering how badly it hurt to have a toenail ripped off, Castiel could understand why.

This was about causing him pain. He wasn’t expected to survive this, not really. They didn’t care how functional he was at the end of the countdown because whether or not his limbs were intact, his throat was getting slit.

When Naomi turned the camera off, Alistair went back to making suggestions.

“I could cut these bits off next,” he said, gesturing towards Castiel’s crotch. “From what I hear about Naomi’s little tin soldiers, you don’t need them anyway. Or I could cut off your nose. Pop out an eye. What do you think?”

Castiel felt his breathing start to quicken again. This was not a good time to panic. But the four hours until the deadline was staring down at him as he realized that he wasn’t getting out of this without a serious amount of pain. He swallowed and kept his chin up, trying not to deign Alistair with his attention.

“You really think you’re brave,” he said softly in Castiel’s ear. “Naomi told me all about you. The sad business with Anael, your failed attempts at earning a pardon and returning to your garrison, your little tryst with my old friend, Dean. It’s all very interesting. Very tragic.”

“I’m glad I can entertain you.”

Alistair smiled humorlessly.

“You get to the meat of a man when he’s under a knife,” said Alistair. “Literally and figuratively. Dean knows that. And he is such a natural at getting to someone’s heart. I may have been the the one pulling the strings, but I had plenty to learn from him.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Castiel.

“So, the golden boy didn’t tell you everything? Not a surprise,” said Alistair. “He does so desperately want to be good. He killed three times before he turned against me. And he was wonderful with blood soaking into his clothes, the bright look in his eyes when he took a life. If there was anything I regret, it’s that I wasn’t more careful keeping him in line. He would have made a good assistant.”

“You’re lying,” said Castiel, figuring it was a trick. And yet he couldn’t figure out what purpose lying might serve. To injure Dean’s reputation? Alistair knew he was talking to a dead man. And the details Alistair had provided were in line with the story Dean had told, mostly. Both versions had at least a basis in some deeper truth about what had happened in Acedia. “Dean is a good man.”

“He acts like a good man, but he is far from that,” said Alistair. “I gave him a choice between dying and living and he chose living. He knew what price I’d ask from him and he said yes.”

Castiel stared straight ahead, avoiding Alistair’s eyes as his face got closer.

“You’re a loyal dog,” said Alistair next. “You know what I’m saying is true, you know it in your heart. But there you sit, like ice wouldn’t melt in your mouth.”

Alistair waited for a response. Castiel remained steadfast in his quest not to react to the monster leaning over him. He at least knew that he had time yet before the cameras were back on and some other part of his body was cut away from him.

“Is this the silent treatment?” asked Alistair. “I don’t much like being ignored.”

He lunged forward, hand grabbing Castiel’s face and forcing him to look. Alastair’s eyes were surprisingly blank for such a cruel man, almost like he was more conduit for evil than he was flesh and bone. If one had asked him what an agent of the devil might look like, Cas would have imagined them much like this.

“Do you want to know something?” Alistair asked. Castiel remained silent. “The best way to do this is to watch closely. See what each person responds to. Make it personal. Dean was always very good at that.”

His knife pointed towards Castiel’s hand again and Castiel tried to wrench his hand away to no avail. The tip of the knife rested lightly on his lap, which made Castiel’s fists clench. Alistair clucked in disappointment, then traced the knife up Cas’ throat and pointed it at his nose. A quick trip to the ears and a flinch on Castiel’s part had him stalling and considering. The moment the knife was parallel to Cas’ eyes, Cas could feel his whole body freeze up. Alistair grinned, a slow, sly thing that made the hair stand up on the back of Cas’ neck.

“Ding, ding, ding,” said Alistair. “We have a winner. Twenty five more minutes with twenty twenty vision. Don’t worry though, I’ll only take out the one. For now.”

“How generous of you,” said Castiel. The little voice in his head that yelled at him that ‘this would be a good time to be quiet, damnit’, was too late to stop him from saying this out loud. Let it never be said, after his likely gruesome death at the hands of this asshat Alistair, that Castiel even once looked before he leapt.

“Dean always did like blue eyes,” said Alastair absently, his eyes unfocused as though remembering. “The big guard he ran off with had them. He said it reminded him of being outside. The sky. Maybe I’ll package yours up and send them off to him as a gift when this is all over.”

Alistair glanced back at Naomi’s timer.

“Eighteen minutes,” he said. For the umpteenth time Castiel tried to think of some way out of the horrendous situation he had found himself in. He couldn’t have survived everything else to be killed like this, after hours of torture and for anyone and everyone to see. Yet still the minutes ticked down and Castiel could think of nothing. When it was time for the camera’s to come back on, Castiel found he was quite desperate.

“There has to be something else you want,” said Castiel to Naomi who watched him dispassionately. “They can’t surrender, and you know that. You’re only buying yourself time.”

“I want my city back under my control,” said Naomi. “I want people with no knowledge and no stake in the wellbeing of my people to take their crusade elsewhere. The state is mine, and if that means Superbia alone, I will be all the happier for it.”

“I don’t want to die,” Castiel told her, and was surprised to find he meant it. The words came out shallow, as though they were wrenched from a part of him only newly resurrected. Naomi too seemed to realize just what it might have taken Castiel to say them.

“It’s much too late in the game to have changed your mind about that,” said Naomi wryly, though she looked almost sympathetic about it. “I’d promise you a quick death, but it doesn’t suit my current interests.”

“A promise from you is worth less than nothing in any case,” said Castiel.

“A quality we share,” Naomi said back, smirking slightly at how offended Castiel was to hear it suggested. “Alistair thinks you’re loyal. And you are, don’t get me wrong but not unswayably so. But you have always been your own man and your own mind, and despite everything else I respect you for that. It made you a useful ally and a powerful enemy.”

“I only ever tried to be a soldier.”

“I think you don’t know quite what you are, Castiel,” said Naomi, tsking to herself. She looked him over thinking hard. “You would have been better placed in leadership. Why they test at nine in Libidine I’ll never know. The results at twelve are much more indicative of where someone belongs in society.”

“You don’t think I would have ended up here anyway?” asked Castiel. Naomi frowned. “Soldier, politician, whatever job you gave me, I still would never accept the things you’ve done.”

“Perhaps,” she admitted. “You believe in something greater, don’t you?”

Castiel nodded his head grudgingly. Naomi’s face remained impassive.

“As do I,” she said. “Believe it or not, I have only ever tried to make the world a better place.”

Castiel looked down at his severed finger sarcastically. Naomi almost smiled.

“One life against the many more lives of everyone living in this city,” said Naomi. “And you are hardly an innocent.”

Naomi’s eyes strayed away from his face.

“Speaking of which, I think your time is up.”

The timer had indeed counted down to zero. Alistair, who had respectfully moved to the side while Naomi and Castiel spoke, was back with what looked to be the equivalent of an ice cream scooper. Castiel thrashed against the chair, trying to break something, anything to get free.

“Wait,” Naomi said, and the word was a godsend. “The signal isn’t going through. Call someone in. Ambriel! Get me Inias.”

Castiel looked over his shoulder towards Ambriel who looked like she wanted to be sick when she looked back at him. She quickly confirmed her intention to follow through with Naomi’s orders, then left to find Inias. Castiel turned back towards Naomi.

“I could just take out his eye now,” said Alistair.

“What would be the point if it isn’t on camera?” said Naomi. Castiel breathed a sigh of relief as the scooper was set down. He tried not to look too interested in what was going on, but after hearing Inias’ name, Cas had begun to hope he might make it out of this against all odds.

Inias had black curly hair and a habitually nervous expression. His eyes flicked to Castiel more than once while he explained that they were having issues with the system and weren’t going to be able to have it up again for at least a half a day. However, if they were to switch buildings…

Castiel wanted to groan out loud. They had to know Naomi would see through this, didn’t they? The safest place for her to be was in this building. Trying to secure another building as thoroughly as she had this one would require more effort than it was worth.

“I am not leaving,” Naomi said. She looked toward Castiel though, and dispassionately considered her options. “Though I suppose if it is the only way, the prisoner might be moved. I need one garrison to accompany him and Alistair, and no member of the garrison shall have had any prior contact with the prisoner. Alistair, if anyone attacks, you are to kill Castiel immediately.”

“I’m sure it won’t be necessary, Naomi,” said Alistair, though he sheathed his variety of knives and looked at the garrison that Inias had called as though he viewed each of them as a potential victim. After attending to himself. Alistair made sure to handcuff Castiel before allowing him to stand. He made some threat or other that Castiel tried to block out.

Naomi sat back in her chair, watching everything with sharp eyes. She knew, she must know, Castiel thought to himself.

“F-f-follow me,” Inias said, gulping when he looked at the torturer. The poor man was little better than a bureaucrat, and Castiel did not feel safe in knowing that he was the sole point of reference he had in this rescue mission. Still, he kept his eyes down and never looked at Inias for too long. Best not to give up the game, if only for Inias’ sake. He could still back out and Castiel did not hate him, and saw no need to reveal him if he did so. After all, what did he owe a traitor several times over?

The long ascent down the fourteen flights of stairs from the top of Naomi’s building to the street gave Castiel plenty of time to try to figure out exactly what the plan might be. He devised a dozen schemes that might just work in his head, though he felt confidence in exactly none of them. Still, even his most far fetched idea was not a direct attack.

Apparently his would be saviors had no such reservations about how likely to succeed that might be.

First, they set off a bright light once the garrison guarding Castiel had exited the building, briefly blinding everyone who had been looking in that direction, which included Castiel. Afterwards, there was a series of thuds as Castiel tried to blink his vision back to normal. Then a familiar voice made him go almost weak at the knees.

“Hell of a way to see you again, Cassie,” said Balthazar, tugging him forward. It bothered Cas that he didn’t know where Alistair had gone, and he had but to turn around to see him blindly tossing a knife at Hael. It sunk into her thigh and she went down with a shriek. “We have to go.”

“But-“

“She’ll be fine. Remiel’s got her. We have to go, Castiel,” said Balthazar, his carefree facade failing to keep the urgency out of his voice. Castiel did as he was told, pulled along by Balthazar and guarded by a fierce Hannah who let out a way cry and ran into the fray to protect Corinthia and Uriel from a soldier who had remembered he owned a gun. She knocked the gun from his hand and then summarily knocked him out, and then rejoined Castiel and Balthazar by a car that was running. Castiel was shoved unceremoniously into the back of this car, and it was as he was looking up that he saw him.

“Dean,” he breathed, and in all his life he had never been so goddamn angry. “You shouldn’t be here.”

Dean ignored him. The moment he saw Castiel was in the car he turned the wheel over to Hannah and calmly exited it, as though Castiel hadn’t even spoken. Hannah called after him, words demanding what he was doing and why he wasn’t following the plan. Dean walked forward without stopping, and despite the pain Castiel was in he tried to lunge for the car door to go after him.

“Don’t you dare,” said Balthazar, yanking him back. “We have to go. He’ll meet up with the others later.”

“No,” Cas said. “No, you can’t let him. Please we have to stop him.”

Because it was obvious to Castiel what Dean was going to do. And it was going to destroy him.

“I’m sorry,” Castiel said apologetically. Balthazar only had a moment to look confused before Castiel elbowed him in the nose. He lunged for the door again, and managed to open. Hannah had started the engine and tried to start driving before Castiel could get out, but it was no use. She slammed on the brakes as he hit the concrete, and Castiel knew he didn’t have much time before they would attempt to confine him to the car so they could attempt to save him once again. Truly, they cared for him more than he deserved.

“Dean,” he whisper yelled as he sprinted towards the man’s back. Dean didn’t even turn around, he was so focused on walking towards Alistair. But someone else noticed. Alistair looked up from where he was helping fight against Castiel’s garrison by lazily throwing knives at whoever strayed within range (and if Castiel were not so focused on catching up to Dean, he would be livid to see Hael and Ezekiel both had been hit, the hilts sticking out of their bodies and blood dribbling down from their wounds). The moment Alistair saw Dean, a strange calm came over him. He even smiled. Dean’s shoulders tensed up, and he reached for a weapon at his side.

Castiel tackled Dean to the ground.

“Get off of me,” Dean almost shouted, much too loud for the quiet operation Hannah was trying to run. Not a single gun had gone off, which meant that they were trying not to draw attention to themselves, even more than they were trying to prevent casualties. Dean struggled against Castiel, who had grabbed his arms and forcefully pinned him to the ground.

“No,” said Cas fiercely. “No, I know what you’re going to do to him. You’re only going to hurt yourself.”

Dean stopped struggling for a moment.

“You know?” he said flatly, sounding darkly amused. “Yeah, I don’t think so. I’m not gonna kill him, Cas.”

“No, you’re not. You’re going to torture him,” said Cas. Dean’s eyes flickered slightly, surprise breaking through. “But I won’t let you.”

“Let me go,” said Dean.

“No,” Cas said back just as stubbornly. “No, I will not let him win. I know what happened to you in prison, Dean.”

It’s sudden, the dark shame that clouds Dean’s face. It’s sudden too, the way twists his arms and almost gets free before Castiel takes him down again by grabbing his left leg when Dean tries to run. They struggle, but eventually Cas manages to gain control by placing Dean in a loose chokehold. Dean stops struggling, realizing how easily Cas could knock him out like this.

“You don’t understand what it was like.”

“I’m not blaming you.”

“No, no, you don’t know the things he did to me,” said Dean. His voice was ragged, and for the first time since Cas had met him, Dean was not in control. “The things he made me do. I need this.”

“You don’t,” Castiel said. He could feel Dean’s muscles tense, and he tightened his hold around Dean’s neck in response as a warning. “People talk, Dean. Do you want your daughter growing up knowing you tortured a man for vengeance? Is that how you want Emma to think of you?”

“Fuck off.”

“You think this isn’t what Naomi wants? For everyone to see what you do to him and turn against you? She brought him here to get to you. You shouldn’t have come to the city. I won’t watch you do this to yourself.”

“When’s the last time you gave a damn about my fucking feelings?” Dean asked. His attention left Alistair, at long last. Instead his hands were reaching up to try to claw at the chokehold so he could look around and Cas. Cas let him, stupid as that may be, and took the full force of Dean’s glare. “When have you ever stopped wallowing in your own fucking self pity to give a fuck about me? Huh, Cas?”

Cas didn’t have an answer for this. He wasn’t even really sure where it was coming from. Yes, he knew Dean cared about him, but Dean cared about everyone. He was a singularly empathetic person. And certainly Dean was attracted to him and that had complicated some aspects of things, but Castiel wasn’t exactly among a small number of people there either. It was easier to list the people who hadn’t at some point had sex or wanted to have sex with Dean than the other way around. This being the case, Dean was used to navigating the complications and resisting the urge to be biased.

Castiel on the other hand… a much larger degree of his action than he was comfortable with had been solely for Dean’s benefit.

“I abandoned everything I knew for you,” Castiel said. “Isn’t that enough?”

Before Dean could respond his eyes slid over Castiel’s shoulder and widened slightly. He opened his mouth to let out a warning, but it was too late for Castiel to avoid the hand that took hold of his hair and pressed a knife to his stomach.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” said the cold, nasally voice of Alistair. Dean staggered to his feet and reached for the gun at his belt. Castiel saw Hannah and Balthazar, now behind Dean, making the same move. “I wouldn’t try anything. It would be a shame if you missed.”

“This is between me and you,” said Dean, all emotion gone from his voice. He sounded like a different man, a harder man. Castiel didn’t like it. Dean took a step forward and Alistair pressed the knife into Castiel’s stomach just enough so he started to bleed. Dean stopped walking. “You don’t want him.”

“That’s very true,” said Alistair. “But I do like seeing you in pain, Dean. And this death… it would hurt you.”

“Let him go, and I’ll let you live,” said Dean. Alistair just smiled and pressed the blade another quarter inch deeper.

“Just shoot him,” Castiel said. He got his head yanked back painfully for the effort. “You can’t capture him, someone please just-“

The knife was stabbed further into Castiel’s side more forcefully this time. A loud shot rang out just as Cas thought the knife might be in the region of hitting something vital. Castiel felt blood and brain matter spray onto his face, and fell to the ground with Alistair’s body landing heavily on top of him. The knife stuck more firmly into his hip and he let out something like a scream.

Alistair was pulled off of him a moment later and Castiel looked up to see Uriel reaching out a hand to help him sit up. Cas glanced to the side to see Alistair’s head half gone, and then looked back to Uriel.

“You-“

“Give me some credit,” Uriel said. “I wasn’t going to let our commander’s favorite die. She would never have forgiven me.”

It was as close to anything remotely resembling a ‘you’re welcome’ that he would be getting out of Uriel. It was enough, and Castiel felt gratitude surge through him. He considered attempting to convey this, but ultimately decided that it was better left unsaid. They had been part of the same garrison, brothers. It shouldn’t so surprising that Uriel would save him.

“Cas, hey,” someone else said, leaning close in concern. Castiel looked up to see Dean crouching down next to him. “You gotta stop getting stabbed.”

“Is that an order?” Castiel asked, watching Dean almost smile at him before his eyes strayed to the dead Alistair. Castiel reached forward and took hold of Dean’s coat so his eyes snapped back to him. “You don’t need revenge. He was nothing, and he was not worth it.”

“I dream about him,” Dean said back, hollowly. He wasn’t looking at Cas anymore. He wasn’t looking at anything. “How am I supposed to get rid of that? How is that supposed to go away now?”

“If you’d gone through with it, how were you supposed to dream about anything else?” Cas asked. After a moment of weighted silence, Castiel reached out to touch his shoulder as an offer of comfort, and Dean’s hand clamped down on his a moment later. Someone cleared their throat. Cas looked up to see Hannah, Balthazar and Uriel staring at the two of them. His face grew oddly warm under their attention. “We have to go. Someone will have heard the shot. Is everyone else-?”

Cas cut himself off as he was dragged to his feet by Dean and Uriel. He did his best not to shout out in pain, but if the way Hannah grimaced at him was anything to go by, he failed to hide it well. They stumbled as quickly as they could back to the car which Hannah had left running. Uriel and Balthazar tugged Castiel into the backseat where Balthazar started working on bandaging Cas’ wound to stop the bleeding. Hannah took the passenger seat, and Dean leapt in and started driving full tilt toward wherever they needed to be. Cas’ awareness faded in and out, and he was lying in a soft bed before he quite knew what was happening again.

MAY 8, 111 A.L. - SUPERBIA

Castiel became gradually aware that someone was in the room with him. He could hear even breathing coming from his right hand side in addition to his own.

“We escaped?” Cas asked out loud, not wanting to open his eyes just yet. No one answered at first. Then he heard the sound of someone shifting in a chair and he turned his head to slowly blink open his eyes and see Dean sitting in an upholstered chair that had obviously been dragged into the room.

“Barely,” answered Dean, at last. “You missed some pretty nifty driving when you passed out. Hurt my feelings.”

“Ah yes, your feelings that I don’t care about,” Cas said. That elicited something of a suspicious glance out of Dean that made Cas wonder if he knew he was being mocked. The knife was gone from his side and he had fresh bandages around the cut. “So I’m going to live, I assume.”

“Try to sound a little happier about it.”

“I am. Happy about it,” said Castiel seriously. “I mean it.”

Dean stared down at him, something between pride and confusion and guilt. Guilt seemed to be winning out.

“I’m glad to hear it,” he said at last. He paused a second, and an uncomfortable silence lasted between them. “I wanted to surrender, you know. To get you and Jo back.”

“We were traitors and it would be a serious blow to morale to lose Superbia. I don’t blame you for-“

“Sure, but I wanted to surrender,” said Dean, insistent. “Either way I wasn’t just going to leave you there, but seeing him do that to you…”

Dean trailed off and looked down to Castiel’s hand. His missing finger had been bandaged freshly over as well. Castiel covered it with his other hand.

“The wonderful thing about fingers is I have more than one,” said Cas. Dean stared at him again, his mouth twisting into a half grimace as though Castiel was the strangest thing he had ever seen.

“You’re a goddamn freak,” he said. “But I’m glad you’re not dead.”

“You’re…” Castiel started, and was saved having to come up with a retort by a light knocking on the door frame. Jo stood there with Ellen a foot behind her. The moment Jo saw Cas was awake she was standing next to Dean and reaching out to pull Castiel into a tight hug. Castiel hugged her back.

“Don’t tear his stitches,” Ellen warned sharply. She too walked into the room, and Castiel noticed her and Dean exchange a glance. “I’m glad to see you got out safe. Bobby will be glad to hear it. He likes hearing about when our people win.”

“It happens rarely enough,” Dean said. “Or at least it used to.”

“The general approved both of you being here?” Cas asked. Ellen and Dean exchanged glances.

“Not even close,” said Ellen. “But I’d go a round with Mary Winchester any day if it meant keeping my girl safe. And Dean-“

“I just wanted you both to know what fucking idiots you are,” said Dean. Jo elbowed him hard and Dean elbowed her back. “Running off like that was a dumb move. I know you think you were doing the right thing-“

“I was doing the right thing,” said Cas.

“Getting tortured and uniting the Superbian resistance and Naomi against us? Yeah, that was a great idea-“

“If you hadn’t made that deal with Crowley in the first place-“

“Okay, I’m just gonna break in here,” said Jo. “Who is this argument gonna help? What’s done is done and we all got out alive and I’m going to call that a good day. Sound good, Dean?”

“Why are you singling me out?”

“You didn’t get stabbed. I like Cas better. Venus is in retrograde. Take your pick,” Jo said. “In any case, I actually came around because Gabriel needs you. Getting out of the city is gonna be hard with Naomi and Kali looking for us. And he ain’t going to help if his neck is on the line.”

Dean nodded and then sneaked a glance back at Cas. He pulled something from a bag at the base of his chair and set it on the table next to Cas. It was the two books Cas owned, the book of poetry and Cat’s Cradle, stacked one on top of the other. Dean noticed Cas looking and shrugged at him self consciously.

“Just… just stay there okay?” he said. He and Jo left, while Ellen stayed behind. She sank into the chair Dean had been sitting in.

“Thank you,” she said. “For telling Jo to get out. I’m sorry about what happened to you, but that girl’s my daughter and if anything had-”

Her voice cut off and she shook her head. Castiel felt something a lot like loss as he wondered if his mother had cared this much when she learned Cas had been placed as a soldier. What little he remembered of his parents had never been warm. He knew his old name still, and vaguely remembered some of the people at the church who had been friends with his parents. There had been a woman named Nora who he remembered brought him and some of the other children sweets at church sometimes. She’d put a bandaid on a cut he had once, and spoken to him softly.

“You’re a good kid,” Ellen said to him. The way she spoke to him was more parental than anything he could remember from his own mother and father. “And you’re welcome in Sanctus anytime.”

“Thank you,” said Castiel softly. Ellen sat with him until his next meal arrived, bringing him up to date with everything that had happened since he had been knocked out. Cas learned that every living member of his garrison except Alexis had been taken in by Gabriel, along with part of Gadreel’s garrison, Inias the bureaucrat, and several other spies who’s positions had been compromised. To Castiel’s great surprise, Ambriel is among this number. Dean had promised them all a place in his militia if they so wished and offered protection in Ira if they did not.

Ellen left after Hannah and Balthazar arrived, having heard he was awake again. They stayed for hours as other members of his garrison drifted in and out. Castiel apologized for breaking Balthazar's nose, which was waved off as "An accident I'm sure, Cassie." Uriel stopped by very briefly, and luckily Benjamin was there for Uriel to bounce off of and prevent any awkwardness. Hael curiously perused the books at Castiel’s bed side and asked him careful questions about them. He hid a smile as Hael peeked through the book of poems, seemingly enthralled with them.

Ezekiel stopped by most briefly, and Castiel didn’t know what to say to him. He also had a knife wound, and he had sustained it rescuing Castiel when he had believed before that Cas was rightfully punished. It wasn’t something he could say thank you for. He didn’t know how.

Remiel eventually dragged Hael away from Cas’ bedside and books, and Hannah and Balthazar left so they could sleep for the night. Cas found he was still tired from blood loss despite the IV he had in his arm to rehydrate him. He was almost sleeping when someone else entered the room.

Blearily, Castiel looked up to see Dean turning off the light before settling in the chair next to him. Dean waggled his fingers in a silent hello, then leaned back so his head was resting against the back of the chair and his frame was slumped against it.

“Are you sleeping here?” Cas asked.

“I’m trying to.”

“I don’t need you watching over me.”

“Last time I left you in a room alone, you ditched me,” said Dean, his eyes still closed. “Someone has to make sure you don’t go off to do something stupid.”

“You’re going to hurt your back.”

“I ain’t leaving,” said Dean stubbornly. He sat there with his arms crossed and his breathing steady enough that he could be sleeping, though Cas had a feeling he was not. When he shifted in mild discomfort, slouching further down so his head wasn’t resting on the hard top of the chair, Cas sighed and decided to try again.

“Dean.”

“I told you I ain’t leaving.”

He sounded so irritated about it, Cas almost left it alone. Almost.

“I’m not going to do anything ‘stupid’. And don’t you think you’d be more well rested if you slept in a bed?” he asked. “We still have to get out of the city. We can’t afford for lack of rest to distract you.”

“Unless you’re offering, I’m staying right where I am,” said Dean. “Whether you like it or not.”

The thought hadn’t occurred to Castiel. He supposed there was enough room, technically, and it wasn’t as though he hadn’t slept in close quarters with members of his garrison before. He’d slept in the same sleeping bag as Jo on more than one occasion as well. Of course, that was a different context, one that precluded certain difficulties that he had with Dean.

“And if I am?” Castiel asked after a moment.

“If you are what?”

“Offering.”

Dean’s eyes opened slowly. He looked at Cas like he was trying to see right through him, and his hands twitched restlessly even as his face was set into a more stoic expression.

“I was kidding.”

“I wasn’t,” said Cas. “It doesn’t have to mean anything, Dean. I’d just rather you were comfortable.”

Dean stood up and awkwardly crossed his arms looking at Cas’ bed. The IV was on the side not by the wall, so Castiel carefully sat up and allowed Dean to crawl past him and lay down before carefully lying down himself. He made sure the IV had not slipped out in doing so and then rested his head back and closed his eyes.

“Hey, Cas?”

“Yes,” Cas asked sleepily. “What is it?”

“If it was Naomi,” he said. “If Naomi was in front of you and you had a chance to take her out… what would you do?”

Alistair still sat heavy in Dean’s thoughts, and that shouldn’t be a surprise. He had been a ghost for a little under two decades and hadn’t escaped Dean’s psyche. The fact that he hadn’t died when Dean had tried to kill him… there was something to be said for the finality of death. To have it undermined and be forced to face the stuff of your nightmares was cruel and unusual.

“It’s not the same. I don’t hate Naomi,” said Cas. He paused a moment. “Well, I do hate her. But… she is not the problem. Not really. She’s a part of a system that isn’t working, and so was I. When you still believe in it, it’s easy to count your actions as the right thing. She isn’t a villain, she doesn’t enjoy causing pain.”

“She had you tortured.”

“To protect her people. And Kali handed Jo and I over to her to protect the city. And you took Kelly as a hostage to protect your own people. I’m not saying these are all the same thing, but I would hardly call any of them moral. So it goes,” said Cas. Dean blinked a moment, almost opening his mouth to ask if Castiel was quoting Cat’s Cradle, but seeming to think better of it. Castiel continued. “I hate her. But I don’t need revenge for the things she did to me. She should be held responsible, but… I’ve done a better job tearing myself apart than she ever could.”

Dean’s hand slid down to take his, flinching back momentarily at the gap where his ring finger should be. Castiel tightened his grip back despite the pain.

“The thing is I did enjoy it,” said Dean, speaking each word carefully. “Getting to hand out a little pain. And Alistair knew just where to fucking poke and prod to get me to-“

He broke off. Cas kept his eyes closed, but pulled Dean’s hand closer to him resting it over his chest. He listened as Dean’s breathing slowed down again beside him.

“I’m as bad as he is,” Dean said.

“You’re not even close,” said Cas. “You couldn’t be if you tried.”

“Haven’t you been listening, Cas? I tried.”

“You’re a good-“

“If you say I’m a good person, I will kick your ass,” said Dean. “I hurt people. I hurt a bunch of assholes that didn’t deserve it, and I liked doing it. You don’t get to forgive me for that, Cas, just because you have some stupid crush on me.”

Dean yanked his hand back and pressed himself as far as physically possible from where Cas was laying. Cas did his very best, and failed miserably, not to take it personally.

“If we are our darkest moments, all of us are doomed,” said Cas. Dean didn’t move from where he was curled up against the wall and Cas fell into an uneasy sleep wondering if there was any way he might have had the conversation differently.

**********

“Hello, Castiel.”

Anna was whole again, and dressed in her commander’s uniform. Castiel was wearing civilian clothes and sitting in the apple tree, looking down at her. She carefully climbed up and sat next to him. There were no gunshots. There was no dying. There was only the soft murmur of conversation as they spoke with each other.

“Do I need to let you go?” Castiel asked at one point, the rest of the conversation having blurred in his memory. It was more the impression of having conversed than anything else. Anna took his hand, gently playing with his fingers, all of which were there. He wasn’t sure why he found this odd.

“Not just yet,” she said back. She looked at him, and something like a smile crossed her expression. “Are you afraid?”

“No.”

Anna didn’t need to ask. Castiel leaned forward and kissed her, deeply. It felt empty, it felt inevitable, it felt final. He stopped and Anna wiped her mouth, seemingly unaffected. Castiel supposed if he had more pride he would be insulted.

“Everything it was cracked up to be?” she asked him, sounding more bored than anything else.

“I’m not in love with you anymore,” Castiel realized, saying it softly. It was a relief and something shameful at the same time. “Anna-“

“It happens. It’s okay,” she said back, holding him close. It was comforting, and Cas let Anna hold him. The birds sang and the wind whistled through the trees and Anna was dead. “I’m damn proud of you, Cas.”

“That sounds more like him than you.”

“It’s always nice when you finally start paying attention,” said Anna in return.

**********

MAY 9, 111 A.L. - SUPERBIA

Cas woke up with a heavy weight on his left side and a dull aching throb of pain on his right. He remembered he’d been stabbed the day before and decided he needed more pain medication. The other phenomena was quickly explained when he opened his eyes to find Dean practically laying on top of him and using his shoulder as a pillow.

If Dean wasn’t six foot two and heavier than Castiel, this might not be an issue. As it was, it was more a mild annoyance and one that was making Cas feel strangely flustered.

“Dean?” he tried quietly. “Dean, wake up.”

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” said Jo, who unbeknownst to Castiel was sitting in the side chair by his bed, looking through his book of poems. Cas resisted the urge to snap at her that that book was private. It had Cas’ thoughts written in the margins and it made him uncomfortable that she might read them.

“Do you have another way to solve the problem?” Cas asked. Jo raised an eyebrow at him.

“I wouldn’t call that a problem,” she said coolly. “But he might stab you, too, if you get him up and I think one stab wound is more than enough. In case you’ve forgotten that Dean isn’t so great with the being woken up unexpectedly thing.”

Which was a fair point, Castiel had to admit. He adjusted his arm, which had tingles running up and down it so that he regained a certain amount of blood flow. Dean resettled with him, his arm now flung across Cas’ chest.

“Y’know, Risa did tell me that Dean was more touchy feely than she’d been expecting,” said Jo, observationally. “I don’t think I really believed her. Guess I was wrong.”

“Are you making fun of me?” Cas asked, frowning at her. Jo smiled back, her detachment slipping little by little.

“Only a bit,” she said, grinning at him. “Please tell me this isn’t platonic, or I’ll have to be jealous you didn’t invite me for the sleepover.”

Castiel rolled his eyes at her. He rested the hand of his trapped arm on the back of Dean’s shoulder, since it was more comfortable that way anyway.

“We didn’t sleep together if that’s what you’re asking,” said Cas. “I mean, we slept together but we just-“

“Slept,” Jo finished for him. “Probably a good thing with the knife wound and everything. Glad to hear Winchester’s still a gentleman.”

“Are you leaving anytime soon?” Castiel huffed grumpily at her. Jo pulled her legs up onto the chair and made herself comfortable. “You’re going to live to regret this.”

“I wanna see Dean’s face when he-“

“Jo. Get out,” came Dean’s muffled voice from against Castiel’s shoulder. That shut both her and Castiel up quickly. Dean looked up and glared at her. “I can tell your mom about that time you set up those beer bottles and-“

“Jesus, Dean, I’m leaving,” she said quickly. She was out the door before Castiel could gather his wits. Dean was moving away from him, carefully crawling out of bed and making sure not to jostle Castiel’s wounds. He shut the door after Jo and pulled a bag towards him, looking through it for clean clothes.

Dean pulled his shirt off, and Castiel found himself ignoring the impulse to look away. He got a smirk in response to his staring, and then Dean bent over to grab another shirt and Cas caught sight of long scratches running down his back.

“What are those from?” he asked frowning. Dean paused a moment, pulling his new shirt over his head before answering.

“Before you and Jo got your asses kidnapped… Look, you were gone. Other people weren’t,” he said, and Castiel had the vague sense that that was supposed to hurt him. It was said in the tone Dean used when he was sharing information for the purpose of making someone else miserable or proving a point.

“So…?”

“Sex, Cas,” said Dean. “Sometimes people scratch.”

And that was fine. It wasn’t as if they were actually… anything. Cas didn’t expect or want Dean to wait for him to get his act together.

“And you… like that?” Cas asked. Dean narrowed his eyes at him.

“Depends on the person,” he said evasively, changing his pants efficiently and not looking at Cas.

“And this person was…?”

“Drop it.”

“Rosali?” Castiel tried, having already gone through others it might be and eliminating people like Jason who were too young, and people like Betty and Charlie, who were uninterested in men. “George? Dorothy?”

“Dorothy’s gay,” Dean muttered, packing up his stuff carefully.

“Aaron? He was assigned to your mother’s army, wasn’t he?”

“Aaron’s straight,” said Dean. “And you suck at guessing.”

And it was something about the evasiveness that made it crystal clear. Castiel sat up and crossed his legs, waiting for Dean to look at him again. Once he did he guessed one more time.

“Gordon?” Castiel tried. Gordon and Dean had had sex before, that was widely known. It made sense.

Dean all but confirmed it when he shrugged and stood there, as though daring Cas to have an opinion about it. Cas kept his mouth shut tightly, not wanting to open up the discussion.

“What?” Dean snapped at last. God forgive him, but Castiel couldn’t keep quiet.

“Gordon tried to kill his own sister,” said Castiel. “And he hates Sam and Jess. And me.”

“Wow. Breaking news,” said Dean. Cas floundered for something else to say and he didn’t know why it mattered so much but it did. For most of the other people he had suspected, he might have been able to approach it as a matter of curiosity. But Gordon seemed almost to be the antithesis of who Castiel himself was. It felt like a slap in the face.

“Why do you…?” Cas asked, trailing off. “What do you even see in him?”

Dean shrugged again, checking and rechecking his things and not giving an answer. Cas waited out the nervous energy, and once Dean had packed his things carefully back into his bag and latched it tightly together he finally answered.

“Maybe he was just the first guy I slept with that didn’t make me feel like shit about it afterwards,” he said. “I mean, he’s shit when it comes to being a decent person sometimes, but at least he never hit me just ‘cause he thinks I’m good looking and didn’t wanna admit it.”

Cas wondered a moment whether Dean was applying this criteria to him in addition to whatever men in his past who had made him feel this way. It made him uneasy that it wasn’t entirely inapplicable.

“Dean-“

“Maybe ‘official state policy’ is supposed to be okay with people like me, but Acedia sure wasn’t,” said Dean. “My dad sure wasn’t either. You know, he caught me blowing some other guy after a resistance meeting, once? I was seventeen. He beat the shit outta me with a crowbar to teach me a lesson. Made sure to stick to girls after that. But when I got sent to prison-“

Dean glared at nothing and his fingers twitched. Cas wished a moment that he might resurrect Alistair just to kill him again himself. Dean’s expression didn’t leave much to the imagination.

“Gordon treated it like it was normal. Like I was normal,” said Dean. “He ain’t perfect, but he has my back and I don’t need you looking down your nose at me because of him. He’s good at winning fights, even you have to admit that. You’re jealous, I get it. Figure out what the fuck you want and deal with it.”

Cas sat up and slipped the IV needle carefully out of his arm. He braced himself against the bed and stood up, only wobbling slightly before righting himself. The stitches in his side stretched uncomfortably, so he moved slowly walking towards Dean, who was watching him warily.

“What are you doing?” he asked after a second. Castiel swallowed hard and tried not to think about it. Instead he kept walking closer and closer until he was standing practically nose to nose with Dean. Before he could convince himself not to, he leant forward and kissed him.

It was the first time Cas felt he could really understand why people wanted this. It felt like both an emotional release and a conversation and the most strangely terrific thing he’d ever experienced. He stepped back and Dean looked back at him, almost dazed.

“The fuck was that?”

“I- I hope it wasn’t- I should have asked first, I was just trying to-“

“No, I mean you’re gonna kiss me like that and then just walk off? The fuck is your problem?” Dean said, but he didn’t sound angry. Cas was still trying to puzzle out exactly what Dean was feeling when a hard tug on his wrist pulled him forward again and Dean pressed a hand to the back of his neck and kissed him back.

Cas felt a wall at his back and Dean’s fingers curling up into his hair, while his other hand rested on Cas’ uninjured hip. Cas awkwardly wondered if he should put his hands somewhere, and settled on copying Dean for lack of knowledge of how he was supposed to be doing this. Just as he felt he was getting a sense of how kissing was supposed to work, he felt Dean’s tongue press against his lips. His jaw dropped in surprise, and Dean stuck his tongue into his mouth.

Castiel maintained it was not his fault what happened next.

“Hey,” Dean shouted, hand flying to his mouth. “Dith you jus’ bite ma ton’?”

He spat out a mouthful of blood and Castiel felt himself hunching up defensively.

“You- I was surprised,” he said. “I wasn’t expecting you to put your tongue inside my mouth.”

“That’s what you’re supposed to do,” Dean said incredulously, his words more clear now.

“How was I supposed to know that?” Castiel asked back, just as exasperated. A knock on the door saved Dean from having to answer that. Instead he just sighed and walked over warily, before opening it.

“What?” he demanded.

“Gabe wants you to finalize your extraction plans for everybody,” said Jo. “Hope I’m not interrupting… anything.”

“Not a word.”

“I’m sure we could get someone to look at any new injuries that might have been sustained-“

“No words,” Dean repeated darkly to Jo. “None.”

Jo waited until Dean was out of earshot before she started laughing. Castiel glared at her.

“I’m sorry,” she said when she’d calmed herself down. “I just can’t believe you bit him. I wasn’t eavesdropping or anything, I swear, but Dean yelled pretty fucking loud.”

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” Cas defended. “I was trying to be… spontaneous and I forgot I don’t know a lot of these things. Garth didn’t mention anything like that when he spoke with me about this kind of… activity.”

“He probably didn’t think about it,” said Jo. “You’re going to have a hard time being spontaneous from now on though.”

“He’s never going to kiss me again,” said Cas, not sure how he felt about that development. Jo nudged him and he looked down at her.

“I doubt that,” she said, sounding sure of herself. “But congrats on finally not shooting yourself in the foot long enough to make a move.”

Jo patted Cas on the head in a patronizing move that caused Cas to roughly shove her hand away. Jo flashed him a thumb’s up and then left the room, saying she had things that needed doing and Cas should get back on bed rest. Nobody visited him again for several hours and Cas spent the time replaying what had happened and trying to sort out how he could simultaneously feel lighter and the strange ache of embarrassment in the pit of his stomach all at once.

MAY 15, 111 A.L. - CAMP JEFFERSON STARSHIP

The extraction had gone as well as could be expected, and as soon as they were back at CJS, Cas was confined to a guarded space along with all other state defectors. Whether this was meant to protect them, or to protect everyone else from them was not told to them. Castiel suspected the latter.

Most of the soldiers in Castiel’s garrison were well trained enough not to cause trouble, with Balthazar being an exception that had a newfound and uncanny ability to drag Hannah into his nonsense. Castiel wasn’t sure why either of them thought collecting spare buttons and throwing them at the guards heads would be a good idea, but they had done it in any case.

Jack had been delighted. The poor child was bored out of his wits and had taken to chattering at either Gadreel or Castiel at all hours of the day. Cas wasn’t sure what to make of this development, except to note that Gadreel didn’t seem overly affected by it. If anything, he looked to be glad for the break.

“How did you get in?” Jack asked on their second day of confinement. Cas had looked at him and then around at his garrison. Despite making the implication of not wanting to tell this particular story clear, Jack had frowned sullenly and Castiel had found himself breaking.

“I- I tried to run away,” Castiel started. Jack perked up immediately, sitting crosslegged as though meditating and waiting for the story to continue. Castiel didn’t have to look to know that Benjamin, Joseph and Isabella were listening in as well. He kept going, despite not particularly wanting them to know the details. “Naomi found me and she offered me a deal. If I became a state spy, she would return me to my garrison and my disobedience would be forgiven.”

“Someone should have told her you’re a terrible liar,” Balthazar cut in. Cas narrowed his eyes at his friend and Balthazar held his hands up in surrender. “I was just adding color commentary.”

“Don’t,” Castiel said, realizing everyone was listening to him now. Great. “So I started looking for a girl I knew to be resistance. Her name was Jo.”

And Castiel told it all. It was cathartic, almost, to say it all out loud. He had to cut what wasn’t necessary, connect dots, make choices about what to say. It was like living his life over again, but with a measure of control that was originally denied to him. Benjamin and Uriel chuckled when they heard that Cas had punched Dean in the face the first time they met, and Hael had nearly had an aneurysm when she learned how many books the resistance had at their disposal. Hannah and Balthazar stayed mostly silent, but Castiel found himself looking at them most often. They had always been closest to him and he didn’t want to say anything that would be unforgivable in their eyes.

“And then I was tortured on television. But you all saw that,” Castiel finished. It made the people around him uncomfortable, obviously. “Thank you for- Thank you to all of you. For coming to my aid.”

Ezekiel was the one who spoke next.

“You looked out for us. Always, Castiel,” he said. “Returning the favor was more than necessary.”

Hannah nodded in agreement, as did several others in Castiel’s garrison. They looked at him as though he were more than he was, and Castiel felt uncomfortable with the feeling. Being second in command had suited him. Being the center of attention did not.

“Will everything be better?” Jack asked him. “When we win?”

And how was Castiel supposed to answer that? This identification with the resistance was a new and exciting thing to Jack and he was still young and passionate and more naive than he realized. How would one explain that it was all much more complicated than a right side and wrong one, and yes the state was wrong and Cas believed the resistance had the potential to do better things. But there were no guarantees.

“We can try,” said Castiel. “It’s better than nothing.

But the boy hadn’t left it there. Until the end of their stay in confinement Jack continued to ask more and more about the resistance. He wanted so badly to be on the right side of the fight, and Castiel found Jack’s search for reassurance exhausting.

But then Dean came for them, and Castiel was given a blessed break from having to explain himself, and defend his decisions and walk the line between truth and lies when recounting his story. It was a relief to see Dean again, and it was likely mutual. When Dean entered the cabin Castiel and the two dozen others were staying in, he pulled Cas into a short but affectionate hug. Cas was so surprised he made no move to return the gesture, but he noticed the reaction among some of his garrison anyway. Balthazar in particular was looking between him and Dean as though he had just solved a particularly vexing puzzle. Cas determined at that point there would be no talking to Balthazar for the foreseeable future.

“Finally talked Mom out of the whole treason thing,” said Dean, as though his words didn’t carry serious weight. “And that your friends can stay.”

“And that took five days?” Castiel asked. Dean looked at him and then around at everyone else. He met Cas’ eyes again and the message was clear. Castiel would know later, when they were surrounded by people who didn’t need to know. In an attempt to cover for this, Castiel continued. “Have I upset her?”

“What, ‘cause you haven’t seen me in five days?” Dean asked, smirking a little at the fact that he is entirely aware there is an audience listening. “Unrelated. See, somebody bit me and I got an infection.”

“How… unfortunate,” Cas said. Dean just smiled at him.

“I don’t know. It might have been worth it,” said Dean, with an ostentatious wink. “Good kisser. Mostly.”

Cas could hear himself stuttering an answer, and Dean seemed thrilled to have knocked him so far off balance. He clapped Castiel hard on the shoulder and left briefly after that, promising they would all be free to go soon. Soon couldn’t come quickly enough.

They were relocated and allowed to travel freely (as long as they didn’t leave the camp) within half an hour, and Castiel tried to casually separate himself from his garrison so he might speak with Dean privately and find out what was going on. He had the sense now that the reason they had taken so long to decide about their new wards was because there were bigger things afoot in other areas.

Unfortunately for him, Balthazar was very used to him attempting to sneak away from crowds. He’d hardly gone a block before his friend was beside him, chattering on about something or other as though they had been walking together all along.

“So, Cassie,” Balthazar said, after wrapping up his complaints that the rations here were nowhere near as good as the food Ellen and some of Gabriel’s men had been cooking for them while they’d been in the city. Nor were they as good as soldier’s rations. Although Castiel agreed, he thought it in poor taste to complain about being fed. “I wanted to ask you-“

“No.”

“You don’t know what I was going to say.”

“I know exactly what you were going to say,” said Cas. “And the answer is no, we are not going to discuss it.”

“So there’s something to discuss,” Balthazar said pointedly, stopping Castiel from walking forward any further. “I can keep a secret, you know? I’ve always kept yours.”

“You have,” said Cas. “Why burden you with more?”

“Anna would be happy that you’re living,” said Balthazar. “If that’s all you’ll let me say on the matter, then so be it.”

Cas hesitated, but nodded. Balthazar seemed satisfied and kept walking with him, demanding to be shown around the camp. It meant more time in the dark about the war developments, but Castiel yielded to Balthazar anyway. He was his oldest friend, and Cas found that meant more now than it had meant before everything else that had happened.

“He is good looking,” Balthazar said when they wandered toward the mostly empty dining hall and he saw Dean sitting there with Jo and Benny, clearly having a serious discussion with the both of them. Benny must have traveled from Ira, Cas thought to himself. He doubted the man had entirely recovered from his bullet wound yet, but with Jo having abandoned her post…

“I haven’t noticed,” Castiel said back to Balthazar, making him roll his eyes. It was uncomfortable for Castiel, knowing that Balthazar knew so much about his own failings. “You really don’t think less of me? For not being able to keep from…”

“Remiel and Hael have sex together on occasion,” said Balthazar. “Uriel certainly isn’t a virgin. Neither am I.”

Castiel stared at him.

“I would have told you, but I knew I’d get that judgmental face of yours,” said Balthazar with a bit of a shrug. “As long as nobody is causing problems, no one cares to enforce that particular rule. What you did wrong, Cassie… it’s a bit more complicated than that.”

“Anna enforced those rules.”

“Ishim was a monster,” said Balthazar. “That’s different. If it makes you feel better, I’ve never slept with a civilian.”

“It makes me feel slightly better.”

“Hannah has though,” he said. Castiel froze.

“Hannah? But she’s so…”

“Is discreet the word you’re looking for?” Balthazar asked when Castiel failed to finish his sentence. Castiel took the out. “When we were stationed in Ira. She spent her nights off at that terrible bar where we couldn’t get good service to save our lives.”

Castiel chuckled to himself for a moment.

“Resistance establishment,” he explained. “I went there once with Jo, before Ira fell. The wait times were substantially lowered in her company.”

“Oh God, do you think they spit in our drinks?”

“I think they did worse,” Castiel admitted. Balthazar shuddered in disgust.

“In any case, Hannah met someone there. It didn’t work out. He was married, and we were leaving,” said Balthazar. Castiel had hazy memories of Hannah being more stone faced than usual when they left Ira two years ago. They’d been stationed in Superbia and patrolling the surrounding rural areas ever since. Until Castiel left that was. “But she liked him a lot.”

“Not enough to desert.”

“No, I think you’ve got the market cornered on that,” said Balthazar, and Castiel tried not to take offense. “But like I said… at least he’s pretty.”

“I prefer ruggedly handsome,” said Dean, having snuck up on the two of them while they’d been talking about Hannah. Castiel jumped. “Unless you were talking about someone else?”

Cas turned around to see Dean and Jo wearing very similar expressions. Both seemed amused to have caught him off guard speaking to Balthazar. Clearing his throat, Castiel introduced them, realizing he had yet to explain who was who.

“Balthazar this is Jo and Dean,” said Cas. “This is-“

“Balthazar. Yeah. I’ve heard that you are ten pounds of dumbass in a five pound bag,” said Dean cheerily.

“I’m sure Cassie didn’t put it like that,” said Balthazar just as pleasantly. Cas had a feeling there was more to this conversation than he was understanding. “And even if he had, I might blame it on one of his many injuries under your watch. Anna took better care of him.”

“If Cas didn’t want to get shot, he shouldn’t have plotted to kill my ex-girlfriend,” said Jo. “No offense, Cas, you know I love you.”

The underlying hostility was as baffling as it was evident. Cas decided to put an end to it.

“Jo, I was actually showing Balthazar different parts of camp,” Cas said quickly. “Do you think you could take over for me? I wanted to speak with Dean.”

Jo frowned at Cas, exchanged a brief glance with Dean, then let out a little sigh.

“Fine. But just because I feel bad you got your finger cut off,” she said to Cas. Cas’ hands twitched and he tried not to think about being strapped to a chair and waiting for Alistair to cut out his eye. “Come on, dude.”

Balthazar followed Jo hesitantly, looking back at Cas as though to say he too was only going along with this because Cas had asked him to.

“They’re going to kill each other,” Dean confirmed for him. He slung an arm around Cas’ shoulder and started walking the opposite direction. Cas waved a moment at Benny who was still sitting at the table looking over papers. Benny waved back, then looked down again. Dean led Cas towards a more quiet part of camp. “So you had something you wanted to talk about?”

“Why would Jo and Balthazar kill each other?”

“Not literally,” Dean explained. “But you just sent your childhood best friend and your new best friend off to talk about you. Either you’re going to regret this for the rest of time, or they’re gonna have a death match.”

“I see. And you were being rude to Balthazar because…?”

“I don’t really like it when people call me pretty,” said Dean. He let go of Cas and sat on the steps of his cabin. Cas hadn’t noticed where they had been walking before then, but this made sense. Cas sat down on the opposite side of the steps. “You wanted to talk. Talk.”

“Where are Crowley’s men?”

Dean grimaced.

“Rowena got tipped off the royal army was away,” he said. “She sieged Crowley’s place and reunited Canada. We signed the deal with Crowley, not her.”

“Which means…”

“Which means we’re out of the deal, which is the only reason Gabe even agreed to help us get you out,” said Dean. “But we don’t have the numbers to take the city now. And we’ve lost Canada as an ally.”

“I didn’t particularly like Crowley,” said Cas, making Dean laugh. “But I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Crowley’s not- He got out. He’s like a cockroach, he’s fine,” said Dean. “And even if he didn’t, not like I would care anyway.”

“Who told them about Crowley’s plans?” Castiel asked, diplomatically choosing not to point out that obviously Dean did care. Otherwise he wouldn’t be angry in addition to frustrated that Rowena had moved against her son. Better not to poke at it.

“You’re smart. Guess.”

“Guttur. Billie.”

“That’s what I’m thinking,” Dean confirmed. “We’ve always had deals with Rowena and most of the time either Billie or Jesse handled it. But Libidine’s cut off communications and we can’t call Guttur out on their bullshit without risking losing their support. So instead we’re stuck outside city walls waiting for Naomi to realize we’ve lost the numbers and make her move.”

“Mary took Invidia with less men,” said Cas.

“The majority of the state’s military weren’t stationed in Invidia,” Dean pointed out. “And the rate of defection still ain’t that high. People were willing to turn a blind eye getting you out, but that was just because they were pissed Naomi was torturing you. They aren’t on our side. So everything is fucked right now, and we have to figure out a way to unfuck it.”

So there had been difficulties then. More than Castiel could have suspected. The momentum the resistance had had going into the attack on Superbia had stalled, and the tide of the war was turning against them.

“What are you going to do?” Cas asked. Dean crossed his arms and leaned back against he old wood of the railing. There was a moment when Cas thought he wouldn’t answer, would say something about a need to know basis, but then he started talking.

“We need more people. We can’t ask Lucrum or Acedia to spare anyone because they’ve got their own shitshows to deal with,” said Dean. “Billie won’t send anyone from Guttur unless we can do something for her in return, and we don’t have that kind of leverage. Everyone who can be here from Sanctus, Ira and Superbia is. We’ve only really got one option.”

“Libidine,” Castiel confirmed. Dean nodded.

“Pretty much. But that shit has complications of its own,” said Dean. “They’ve got a big influx of refugees since the wars started from both sides. It’s gonna be a bitch watching my back when I-“

“You’re leaving?” Cas asked. Dean nodded.

“Someone has to,” he said. “And I’ve known Jesse and Cesar a while. They’ll talk to me. If I can get to them without getting my throat slit.”

Cas thought. Then he thought harder.

“I could go with you,” said Cas. Dean frowned at him.

“Or you could stay here where it’s mostly safe.”

“You said refugees are flooding Libidine. I could take some of my garrison and some of your men that the Libidine resistance are less familiar with and we could infiltrate the city. Once I find Jesse and Cesar, I can set up communication with them without you having to go into the city and risking discovery.”

“I’m not sending a bunch of state soldiers into Libidine blind. We know almost nothing about the situation there.”

“You’re forgetting,” said Castiel. “I’m not a soldier anymore. I’m a spy.”

Dean stared at him for a good five seconds. Cas held it, not backing down for a moment.

“You can bring one soldier. Everyone else is my guys.”

“Deal,” said Castiel. “I’ll bring Balthazar.”

“Pick someone else,” said Dean without hesitation. Cas narrowed his eyes.

“Remiel,” he decided at last. He’d rather have Hannah or Hael, but Hannah would be needed to take command of the garrison here, and Hael would not want to be included in the task. He’d briefly considered Benjamin, but then had decided Benjamin was too proud to play the part they would need to play to beg help in Libidine. Remiel on the other hand would take it as a challenge.

“Deal,” Dean confirmed. He reached out a hand and Castiel realized a moment too late he was supposed to shake it. He quickly brought his hand up and took Dean’s, his grip firm and decisive. The handshake too lasted a moment or two too long.

“We’ve still got a chance at winning,” Castiel said, meant as a reassurance. Dean nodded at him, his own grip tightening further.

“Hey, we’ve come back from harder odds before,” he confirmed. Cas nodded and let go of Dean’s hand. He stood up to leave and go to his assigned quarters. Dean grabbed the back of Cas’ shirt and pulled him back.

“Don’t bite me this time,” he said, and before Castiel could complain that that had been an accident and he was sorry, goddamnit, Dean had pressed his lips against Cas’. He held his hands on either side of Castiel’s face, and every part of him seemed to relax when Cas kissed back and started pushing his hands up under Dean’s shirt. When Dean slipped his tongue past Cas’ lips the same way he had last time, Cas could look past the strangeness of the idea to realize that it also felt good. It seemed like the kiss had barely started when Dean was taking a step back and putting a hand in front of Cas’ chest when he tried to follow forward.

“Easy,” he said. Cas stopped trying to continue kissing him and frowned at him instead. “So that’s how you kiss someone. Maybe try it out a few times before you shackle your dumb ass to me.”

Then Dean went back into his cabin, shutting the door behind him, and Castiel tried to figure out what the actual fuck that was supposed to mean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: torture (nothing worse than the show has done), references sexual assault (it is implied to have happened in the past; there is nothing explicit)


	12. Perched in the Soul (Part I)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Cas casually mentions/jokes about previous suicidal thoughts he has had.

MAY 17, 111 A.L. - CAMP JEFFERSON STARSHIP

Castiel was glad to be assigned to a cabin with Selma, Jo, Rosali, and Carl. It meant that while the approval process for the mission Dean had proposed to his mother was occurring, he would be among friends. It also meant Jo had been officially demoted, something she took with more grace than Castiel had been expecting.

“Benny was a better captain, anyway,” she’d deflected when Castiel had asked her about it. “I think I’m better at defying orders than giving them.”

Cas hadn’t pushed her further than this.

As soon as Castiel had settled completely into the cabin, Selma made him aware that they had painted a bull’s eye on one of the walls and hidden it behind a city plan of Superbia. In the evenings they took the map down and threw knives to keep in practice. None of this would have been disapproved of, of course, if not for the fact that drinking and gambling were involved with it.

The first round would be a sober attempt to match Selma’s terrifying accuracy, which no one had managed to even come close to. After that, Selma would ensure that no one injured themselves as the rest of them became increasingly intoxicated and competitive. Castiel had offered on more than one occasion to join her in sobriety and assist with keeping everyone in check, but she always waved him off and told him she was glad he was having fun.

And Castiel was having fun. He invited Benjamin and Susannah one night to join in after swearing them to secrecy, and had enjoyed watching Susannah give Selma a run for her money in the first round before finally admitting defeat. To Castiel’s surprise, Selma had looked to be on the way to throwing a fit as victory had seemed almost uncertain at points.

“I never suspected you might be a sore loser,” Castiel told her as everyone else began the drinking game Castiel had been playing the past several nights. “You always seem so calm.”

“I didn’t lose,” Selma said, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. Castiel smiled at her, putting his hands up in surrender.

“You didn’t,” he acknowledged. When Selma’s suspicious squint continued, he determined it was best if the subject was changed. “I’ve noticed Jo has been getting better. Not that she wasn’t good before.”

“I’ve been showing her some pointers,” said Selma. “In case she gets captured again.”

Selma tried to play the words off as a joke, but Castiel could tell there was honest worry behind them. He reached out and took Selma’s hand as a sign of comfort.

“Jo is going to be fine.”

“Do you think she’ll be going to Libidine with you and Dean?” Selma asked. Castiel shrugged. He hoped she would be. It would be nice to have a familiar face among them, though he knew Dean wanted to bring mostly new recruits with him to avoid anyone being recognized when they infiltrated the city. “I’m worried about her.”

“Garth has been talking with both her and me,” Castiel said. “She hasn’t been showing many adverse effects after we were captured by Naomi.”

“You have been.”

“Castiel, sound of mind,” said Cas sardonically. “Maybe someday. But in any case, I think Jo is doing as well as can be expected. You need not worry.”

“She broke up with Charlie,” Selma said. When Cas failed to look impressed she repeated herself more emphatically. “She broke up with Charlie. She’s never done that before. They’ve been in love for years. No one just… changes like that.”

“Don’t you think they’re better apart?” Castiel asked, after waiting for Selma to go on. It was strange the way she was reacting to the news. “They were never particularly happy together. If anything, they seemed to make each other miserable.”

“I’ve known Jo longer than you have,” said Selma. “She and Benny kept me sane after Erica died. I want to return the favor, but she’s not acting as if her heart is broken. She isn’t lashing out, or over-drinking, or having sex with anyone who will have her. It isn’t like the way it was before.”

Castiel looked thoughtfully over at Jo, who was in a friendly standoff with Benjamin that appeared to be headed the way of armwrestling. He couldn’t help smiling.

“Why do you want her to be upset?” Castiel asked Selma.

“I don’t. But I don’t want her to ignore her feelings either.”

“I think…” Castiel said, trying to collect his thoughts. “I think that Jo realized that her relationship with Charlie wasn’t going to work a long time ago. She’s been heartbroken all along. Accepting it was a step towards healing and not being heartbroken anymore. Perhaps Jo isn’t hiding her feelings so much as she is moving past them.”

“As I said, I’ve known Jo longer than you. I know her patterns.”

“Well, I know what it’s like to fall out of love with someone,” Castiel contested, the few drinks he had had loosening his tongue. It took him a moment to realize what he had said, and a second longer to process the look Selma was giving him. It was too late to back down now. “It isn’t a mournful feeling. It’s freeing in a way. They don’t haunt you anymore. Or what might have been doesn’t haunt you anymore.”

“And how exactly do you do that?” Selma asked blankly. “How do you stop loving someone? How did you stop loving Anna?”

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” said Castiel gently. Selma sighed, looking off into the distance. “And I still love her, it’s just different now. She was my commander, she’ll always be one of the most important people in my life. I just… she doesn’t need to be the only important person in my life.”

“Sometimes I worry I’ll never be happy that way again. That all chance of that died with Erica,” she said quietly. Castiel squeezed her hand tight, trying to convey comfort to her.

“Well, Jo is available,” Castiel said. It was a joke, but the shifty way Selma’s eyes slid down made Castiel sit up and pay more attention. “In all seriousness?”

“At least it’s not a straight girl this time,” muttered Selma, which made Castiel laugh a little. “Quiet, Castiel. If Risa asked you to go to bed with her, you would think about it.”

“I wouldn’t think about it,” said Castiel, shaking his head. In no world had he ever thought about sleeping with Risa. He knew she was considered to be almost preternaturally attractive by anyone attracted to women. Despite knowing this, he still couldn’t see her as someone he personally should find desirable.

“But you thought about it with Mandy?” Selma asked, clearly confused. Castiel shrugged. He didn’t know what it was about Mandy that had appealed to him. Perhaps her blatant interest, or her honesty, or her quick wit. It wasn’t so much that Castiel had any desire to sleep with her as much as it was a fact that he could actually imagine himself doing it. For most people, he just couldn’t. It was as if there was something of a wall up stopping him from seeing them in that context.

“Clearly we have different types.”

“Clearly,” Selma agreed with a slight smile. Her smile slipped a moment later, replaced with an expression that was rather more anxious. “You won’t tell her?”

“Not if you don’t want me to,” said Castiel. “But maybe… Maybe you shouldn’t suffer this in silence. I know you’re scared after what happened to Delphine and Erica, but… You deserve to be happy, Selma.”

“It’s funny,” Selma said after a moment. “How much you’ve changed. A few months ago, you never would have suggested that to me. In fact, I very much remember you being frustrated that anyone would entertain romantic ideas about each other while there are battles to be fought.”

“As you said. I’ve changed.”

Castiel decided to return to the competition and gently let go of Selma’s hand so he could pick up one of the knives that had been put on the table after they had all been carefully pulled out of the wall. She stopped him before he could move very far.

“You deserve to be happy, too, Castiel,” Selma told him. Then she let him go and Castiel carried on with the competition as though their conversation hadn’t happened. No one else seemed to have noticed.

MAY 18, 111 A.L. - CAMP JEFFERSON STARSHIP

“Castiel.”

Cas stopped passing out food, much to the dismay of the surly Sanctan teenager who had been holding his plate out half-heartedly for a serving of steamed vegetables. Cas passed the serving spoon to Jo, who had been standing next to him and gossiping, and stood at attention. Jo too had stopped talking and was doing her best to pretend all of her attention wasn’t directed behind her while she apportioned out food.

Mary Winchester frowned at the both of them. She seemed to take particular offense at Castiel’s posture.

“You don’t need to- Can we speak elsewhere?” she asked him. Castiel nodded.

Mary led him to the back of the kitchen. It was surprisingly empty, and Cas had the feeling she had arranged it to be that way. Mary sat down at the break table and waited until Cas sat down across from her. A period of silence passed, and Castiel found himself growing nervous.

“Is there something you need from me, general?” he asked, as neutrally as possible. Mary kept staring him down, wariness and what Castiel thought might be amusement warring behind her eyes.

“Soldier,” Mary acknowledged him. “I wanted to speak with you.”

“Of course,” Castiel replied.

“Dean wants you on his recon mission. Now, I don’t think that’s a good idea for more than one reason, but I figured I at least owe you the chance to prove me wrong,” she said. Castiel blinked. “You’re a well known name, especially among some of the refugee soldiers. You’ve disobeyed direct orders from both Naomi and Dean while claiming to be working for them. And you’re also a few pickets short of a fence.”

“No offense meant, I’m sure,” Castiel said dryly.

“So you know what you’re up against,” Mary answered. “I won’t let you hurt my boy. He’s been through more than enough. I don’t trust you. I don’t like you. Change my mind.”

“I’m going with Dean whether you approve or not.”

Mary’s eyebrows went up.

“That’s what you’re going with?”

“I’m sorry, was that impolite?” Castiel asked pointedly. Mary sighed, and Cas took pity. He didn’t need to be this difficult, and he knew it. He was just so tired of being poked and prodded at. “I more than respect you, general. Have I not earned a measure of respect in return?”

“No,” Mary said. “No, frankly you haven’t. I think you’re using my son, and he’s falling for it.”

“If anyone is being used, it isn’t him,” Castiel bit back bitterly. Mary managed to hide most of her surprise at his sudden vehemence. “If you want to be convinced, Mary Winchester, know this: I want him to live more than I want to win this war. Is that enough?”

“Not even close.”

“Then I repeat my first point. I’m going whether you say I can or not. If you want to stop me, you’ll need to lock me up. You have over a dozen soldiers willing to fight for your cause because they respect me and my opinion. They will abandon you the second I’m behind bars.”

Mary glared at him, and Castiel knew he had her.

“If you don’t choose me as part of the mission and I go anyway, it will look like you don’t have control over Dean’s side of operations,” he said. “And you need to appear to be as in control as possible. Otherwise morale will fail.”

“So you admit that you will defy orders I give?” asked Mary flatly.

“Like I said,” Castiel said, staring directly at her. “I value his life more than a speedy conclusion to this war. I answer to him, not you.”

“He answers to me.”

“Yes, he does. He’s a good son,” said Cas. “It was beaten into him. That isn’t your fault, but perhaps every once in a while you could do him the favor of listening while he speaks. I know you feel guilty, but you can’t protect him from himself.”

Mary punched him. Castiel took his time picking himself off the floor, and resetting his chair so he could sit down again. He rubbed at his jaw and tried not to think about how he was going to be explaining the bruise there. If the flash of regret on Mary’s face was anything to go by, she was wondering the same thing.

“I shouldn't have done that,” she admitted. “In all fairness, you have a very punchable face.”

“You’re not the first to think so,” Cas said. “I’ll consider it karma and call it even. But nothing’s changed. I’m going with him.”

“To Libidine?” Mary questioned.

“As far as he lets me,” Castiel said. Mary shook her head.

“You do understand what happens when this is over?” Mary said, her voice quiet now. “When there’s a regime change and we need someone to blame?”

Castiel hadn’t. Until that very moment he hadn’t realized what winning might mean to him. He froze under her attention, trying not to let the terror show through.

“I haven’t done enough yet,” Cas said. Mary gave him a look. “I’ll never have done enough.”

“Accomplice to the murder of children. That charge alone will turn any decent person against you,” she said grimly. “And you won’t be part of any pardon deals. Not when you’re such a divisive figure. They don’t care about you, and they won’t fight for you. And I won’t fight for you either. I can’t afford to.”

“I understand. It makes sense,” Cas said. Mary almost looked sorry for a moment. “And Sam advised you tell me this. Naturally. He wants to test me, because if I run away it’s safe to kill me without hurting Dean’s feelings. It’s touching, how much he cares about his brother.”

“I don’t know you, Castiel,” Mary said. Castiel refused to be scolded, staring her down. “In a different time and place, I would want to know you. You remind me of a man I thought I knew once. The problem is I read him all wrong and Dean paid the price for that. I can’t afford to do that twice. If you’re going to run, run now. We might not even be able to catch you. If not…”

“You weren’t lying before,” Castiel said solemnly. “We win the war, and I pay the price. Someone has to.”

Mary got up to leave, but Castiel stopped her, reaching out quickly enough that her hand flicked to her weapon. Castiel stilled.

“Promise me my men will be safe,” he said. “Whatever punishment needs to be inflicted, it doesn’t fall on their heads. If nothing else, you owe me that.”

“You have my word,” Mary said. “On one condition: you don’t use Dean to weasel your way out. When the time comes, you put your head down and accept what’s coming to you.”

“I won’t use, Dean,” Cas said. “Not ever. As for the rest… you wouldn’t refuse a man hope would you? The chances of my escaping these consequences is miniscule. Don’t deny me what little comfort I can take for myself that the odds might be with me.”

“I suppose,” Mary said, after a moment’s consideration. “But I can’t be merciful. And you can’t expect that to change.”

“I suppose we have an agreement, then, general,” said Castiel. He registered Mary’s short nod and subsequent exit, but he didn’t move from where he was standing for what felt like a long time. Some of the other people on shift wandered into the break room, lunch officially over. Cas forced himself to sit. Jo sat next to him, silently. She waited for him to start talking.

“I’m going to Libidine with Dean,” Cas said. “Officially.”

“That’s good news right?” Jo asked.

“Yes.”

“Then why do you look like you just got locked in an outhouse with Gordon Walker and a machete?”

Cas snorted. So she’d noticed the bruise then. A storm was brewing inside of Cas, and he didn’t want Jo to receive the brunt of it. He tried to play her comment off with a smile, and deflected every variation of measuring his fineness, of which their was a disturbing amount. Perhaps Cas would have a more sensible friendship with Jo if even once their conversations didn’t surround whatever most recent event had fucked one of them over.

“I need to be somewhere,” Cas said, interrupting mind game number twenty seven in which Jo attempted to find out what was “really wrong” with him. She let him go, but Cas wouldn’t be surprised if she followed him. Hopefully, she would get distracted along the way because Cas had a feeling he was about to do something stupid, and he’d rather she not witness it.

No one spoke to him as he walked through camp. Even people he was friendly with, who usually offered a wave and a hello, caught sight of him and pretended not to notice. Cas suspected it was something in his expression. To an outsider, it might look like he was on the war path. The truth wasn’t much better.

Cas managed to calm himself enough to knock. He even managed to knock politely, thank you very much. However when Dean answered the door he allowed himself to not so politely invite himself in. He started picking up things and looking at them in order to have something to do. He could feel Dean watching him, warily. Cas ignored him.

“Cas?”

“Yes?” Cas answered, not looking at Dean.

“Did you want something?”

“Yes. I wanted to renegotiate the terms of our mission. See, I agreed to only one soldier accompanying me before your mother threatened me. Now I feel unsafe.”

“Wait, she-“ Dean started, and Cas could see the moment Dean caught sight of the darkening bruise across Castiel’s right cheek. His eyes narrowed, but Cas cut him off.

“So, I think it’s reasonable to ask that Hael come in addition to Remiel. It seems only fair,” said Cas, his tone quickly losing the veneer of calm he’d been attempting to maintain. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

“When the hell did my mom threaten you?” Dean asked. Cas spared a glance for him, contemptuous though it may be. Dean pulled him around until Cas was forced to look at Dean. “What happened?”

“I told you what happened.”

“You really didn’t,” he said.

“You can’t do anything about it, so it’s best you don’t know details. I want two soldiers with me,” said Cas. “I need to know there’s someone I can trust.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean,” Dean said flatly. “All I’ve ever done is give you chances, Cas.”

“You don’t count,” said Cas. “If something bad were to happen to me, and it was under Mary’s or Sam’s command, you can’t retaliate. If you turn against them, you’ll be thought of as uncontrollable, dangerous, and easily manipulated. I won’t be responsible for your downfall.”

“Jesus, Cas, what did she say to you?” Dean asked. “I’m not going to let anything-“

“Stop speaking,” Cas hissed. Dean narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth to yell. Cas cut across him. “No. You couldn’t protect me from Naomi, or Alistair, and you can’t protect me from your mother. If you weren’t such a blind, love sick fool you wouldn’t be protecting me at all.”

“You’re a piece of work, you know that, Cas?” said Dean. He sounded betrayed, and Cas couldn’t help feeling that Dean had no right to behave this way. As though Cas were the confusing one whose motivations were obscured in shadow, when truth be told Cas had always been an open book to anyone who was paying attention. Dean was more of an enigma than Cas could ever even wish to be, if he were so inclined to wish for something so useless.

“I want Hael as well as Remiel,” Cas said again. He tried to keep his voice flat, but somehow he couldn’t keep the tremor out of it. And, goddamnit, Dean noticed.

“Yeah, okay,” said Dean, voice soft now. “Cas, you’re shaking.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re scared,” Dean realized. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you scared. Not really. Not even when… when he was cutting you.”

“You haven’t been paying attention.”

Cas must have lost time, because the next thing he knew he was being crushed against Dean’s chest, his head buried in the side of Dean’s neck. Cas’ arms were still ramrod straight at his sides, and he could feel his fists spasming as instinct fought between pushing Dean away and holding him closer.

“You’re fine, Cas. I’ve got you and you’re gonna be fine,” said Dean, and the instinct for comfort won out. Cas’ arms circled Dean’s waist. He held on too tight, and he was certain he heard Dean let out a small grunt of pain, but he couldn’t convince himself to loosen his hold.

“I don’t… I just decided I want to live again. I don’t want a life behind bars, or in pain, or…” Cas cut himself off. “She told me she can’t be merciful. That doesn’t mean anything good.”

“I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”

“You have to,” said Cas. “I’m not an ally, I’m a liability. The sooner you understand that, the better.”

“Good news for you, then. I was never very smart.”

“Dean.”

“Nuh uh. Fuck that,” said Dean. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you. No one’s going to touch you.”

“You included, I assume,” said Cas. Dean laughed, one hands snaking up from Cas’ shoulders to rest on the back of his head. His thumb rubbed gently against the nape of Cas’ neck, and Cas rested more of his weight on Dean. “Unless you’ve changed your mind about that.”

“I don’t want to take advantage,” said Dean. “Throwing everything else away for the first person you kiss is a dumb move. I get that dumb, reckless, and ridiculously lucky is kinda your calling card, but someone has to tell you when you’re acting batshit crazy.”

“I’m sure there’s a compliment hidden in there somewhere,” said Cas. “Beneath the assumption that I don’t know what I want, or don’t know what I’m asking for. And the fact you think I’m stupid.”

“You are stupid. It’s really fucking cute, sometimes,” Dean muttered. Cas shoved him away, breaking a hug that had been going on entirely too long anyway. And hadn’t felt nice at all, as far as Cas would admit to out loud. “What?”

“I think you see the parts of me you want to see,” said Cas. “And you ignore the rest, because you can’t justify liking me if you admit to yourself what I am.”

“And who exactly is that?”

“A weapon that started asking too many questions,” said Cas. He took a step back from Dean, and looked toward the door. It was about time he left. “You and I are going to have sex someday, because we want to and we’ll rationalize why it’s acceptable. It will be a mistake, and you’ll realize your place and I’ll be reminded of mine. And when I become the scapegoat for your damn cause, you’re going to let me. Because rebuilding the state is more important than my feelings.”

“You’ve got this all figured out, huh?” said Dean. His eyes flashed with a challenge, and Cas couldn’t look away. He wondered how he had managed to pretend he could ignore it, this spark between them. It was like a live wire that lit up at the slightest provocation. The idea that it could be ignored, indefinitely, was ridiculous. But Dean’s charisma, and the strange chemistry they had wasn’t the only thing holding them together. If it was, Castiel wouldn’t be quite so terrified.

“I do,” said Cas. “You’re going to sit on your hands and watch as I’m dragged away kicking and screaming, because if you lift a finger to try and save me, I am going to make you regret it for the rest of your life.”

“You’re not scaring me, Cas.”

“I should,” said Cas. “I would do terrible things for your happiness. You seem to think there is another choice on the table, for me. There isn’t. If there was, I would be long gone already.”

“Yeah, I kinda knew that,” said Dean. He let out a heavy sigh and leaned back against the wall. There was nothing between Castiel and the door now, but he still couldn’t make himself move. “You can do better than me, you know that? I wouldn’t hold it against you if you just weren’t here tomorrow. If you ran. Again.”

“No, I don’t think I can do better,” said Cas, finding the idea almost laughable. Dean had fit himself easily into Castiel’s concept of ideal, without even trying maybe. Doing better would mean reorganizing his sense of the world once again, and Castiel was tired of shifting his perspectives. Perhaps it wasn’t the best choice, letting one person be the center of your world. It had certainly failed Castiel before, but he suspected it was just the way he was wired. “And yes, you would hold it against me.”

“I wouldn’t hold it against you much,” Dean corrected, almost affably. “Because the thing is, Cas, I’m not all that good at listening either. Warn me off all you want, but I’m not letting you go down without putting up a fight. That just ain’t me.”

“And I promised your mother I wouldn’t use you,” Cas muttered to himself, mostly. “I shouldn’t have told you about this.”

“Yeah, but you did,” said Dean. “Because I do count. You trusted me to hear you out.”

“No, I came here to jump your bones, and I got distracted and angry,” said Castiel. Dean choked on nothing. “Jo taught me that expression. I’m not sure I like it. Doesn’t it remind you of dancing on someone’s grave, jumping someone’s bones? Really the world would be a better place without the English language and sex.”

“Hey, let’s not be hasty. Don’t knock till you try it,” said Dean, rather hastily himself. “I mean if you really want to try it. With other persons that might be in the area. If you’re sure. I’m not- I just mean as long as you understand it doesn’t mean anything ser-”

“Not tonight, Dean,” said Cas, finally moving towards the door. He wasn’t sure what exactly Dean had said that had calmed him, but the anxiety had slowly leaked away through out their conversation. It might have been Dean’s presence alone that provided some relief from Castiel’s terror of what the future might hold. And wasn’t that just funny, considering Dean was the one who had made him think about the future as a possibility in the first place? “I’m sure Gordon would be more than willing. You can tell him about my impending doom. Have a good laugh at my expense.”

“You’re actually fucking killing me, you know that?” Dean said straight faced. Cas smiled at him, and Dean cracked, grinning back. “Fuck off, alright? You’re gonna be okay, Cas. I’m gonna see to it.”

Cas left thinking that was awfully nice of him, and it was really too bad it was an empty promise. Regardless of what Dean thought he could do, Cas knew when he saw larger forces at work, and Mary Winchester was just the tip of the iceberg when it came to resentment. Someone had to pay the price change was going to cost, and it might as well be Castiel. As long as it wasn’t anyone else, it might as well be him.

MAY 25, 111 A.L. - 150 MILES FROM GUTTUR

“Shit,” Benny swore, looking at the debris strewn across the road in front of them. He stuck his hand out the broken window to signal to the car behind him his intention to pull over, then promptly did so. Cas let out a sigh and started waking up the people snoozing in the back of the jeep. Remiel and Hael were up quickly, and Balthazar had never been sleeping in the first place. Garth woke up cheerily, which was counter to all the laws of man and God, which was perfectly in character when it came to Garth. Jack just looked vaguely grumpy for a few moments before registering, yes, he needed to actually be awake right now. He managed something of an imploring look aimed Cas’ way before he trudged out with everyone else to start clearing the road.

Cas hadn’t wanted Jack to come along for the mission. When Dean had suggested it, he had all but threatened to all but sabotage any attempt at recon Dean would make. Unfortunately, Dean was smart enough to inform Jack that he wanted him along, but wasn’t sure if he was ‘mature’ enough, and that had lit a fire under Jack until it was the only thing he spoke about. Gadreel, who obviously considered himself something of a father figure to Jack, had nearly broken his rock solid composure and threatened Dean when he learned of this, but there was no stopping an intrepid (read stupid) teenager with something to prove. It was made doubly worse, in Cas’ humble opinion, because Jack looked up to Castiel. Why he couldn’t fathom, but it made him feel like all of his actions were under a microscope, and whatever stories soldiers had been trading had created expectations entirely too high for him to meet.

Of course, then Dean had offered to let Balthazar come along if Cas quit “bitching about the Jack thing.” Cas had accepted this offer, but that didn’t mean he felt good about it. The only reason Jack had been invited along is that he looked young enough to pass for fourteen or fifteen instead of his actual seventeen years, and that meant he was a more sympathetic refugee than Castiel or any other member of his garrison was. Jason, who had been traveling in the car with Dean, was invited along for similar reasons (though at twenty five he wouldn’t pass for much younger than eighteen, and only then if he remembered to shave every day).

Cas and Benny took the lead in figuring out the quickest method of clearing the road so they could keep making process in their journey towards Guttur. They didn’t have many daylight hours left, and with the barricades Billy had had set up (allegedly), it was taking much longer than they thought to get to the city before they moved on to Libidine. What should have been a one or two day trip was looking as though it might stretch out to a week, and that was a week they didn’t have when it came to protecting the forces they’d left behind them in Superbia.

As Cas got started moving the rubble that had been left strewn across the road, the car that had been trailing about a mile behind them pulled over. Dean got out of the driver’s seat, and sent everyone except Dorothy and Charlie to go and help clear the road. He stopped to talk to the two of them, and motioned towards the switchboard Charlie was fiddling with in frustration. Charlie shrugged and shook her head. Dorothy likewise seemed concerned.

“Are you helping, or are you staring?” Benny asked, knocking Cas’ shoulder and distracting him from the argument he’d been observing. “Cas?”

“Can’t I do both at the same time?” Cas muttered. “I’m helping.”

“Whatever’s going on, leave it alone,” said Benny. “All you’re going to do is distract him.”

“I’m not distracting,” Cas said. “I’m frequently very helpful. Like I’m being right now for instance. Or at least I was until you distracted me. So who’s the real distraction here?”

“I’m going to have to have a word with Jo,” said Benny. “I think she’s infected you with part of her personality.”

“Trust me, he was always this annoying,” Balthazar chimed in, slinging an arm around Cas’ shoulders and squeezing before letting go. He ignored Cas’ glare and readily joined into the conversation, likely to avoid manual labor. Balthazar may have been an excellent soldier, but he never lifted a finger if Anna didn’t ask him to. “Keep me in the loop, Cassie. Something wrong?”

“Get back to work,” Cas said, which was par for the course as far as his friendship with Balthazar went. It had long since stopped being insulting, and Balthazar had decided a while ago rudeness was a “quirk” of Cas’ personality to be dealt with rather than corrected. So they all went back to clearing the road.

As they finished, Cas found himself helping Rosali and Jason. Jason looked less than thrilled with this development, though Rosali seemed to appreciate the interference. Even Cas was aware that Jason considered himself something of a lady’s man, though what evidence he had to back that up, only Jason knew. Rosali, on the other hand, seemed to pride herself on being one of the few people who didn’t engage in casual hookups among Dean’s militia. Or if it were not pride, it was at least a sense of rightness in her own path in life. Either Jason had not picked up on this, or he thought he could change Rosali’s mind.

“How has the drive been for you both?” Castiel asked. They were resting now, and Cas had a feeling they would be camping here for the night, considering the light was fading fast now and Dean hadn’t called for everyone to get moving again.

“Fine,” said Jason, monosyllabic and suspicious. Rosali rolled her eyes.

“Dean is trying to get in contact with Billie, but the signal they usually use is jammed,” she said. “Other than that, Charlie and Dorothy are fussing over the equipment and reports from Mary, respectively, Betty and Wendy are arguing about the Toni Morrison novel Wendy borrowed from Rufus, and Jason has been trying to flirt with me. All day.”

Jason stiffened, a look of shock and then mortification crossing his face.

“I have not,” he said, his denial a little too quick to be believable.

“Good. I’m glad to hear,” Rosali said back. Jason was at a loss for words for a moment, then retreated to where Benny, Wendy, Garth, and Betty were having a spirited discussion. He looked like a dog that had just been kicked, and very pointedly didn’t look back in Rosali’s direction. Rosali sighed. “Men need to get better at reading nonverbal cues.”

“I’m sorry, was that directed at me?” Cas asked. Rosali elbowed him. Cas was glad to see she didn’t seem to distrust him as much as Jason did. “He’s just young. You’re older than him and good with guns. I’ve been assured that is catnip for adolescents. I’m sure he didn’t mean anything by it.”

“I know, but I don’t want to deal with his nonsense,” said Rosali. “Jason could stand to learn a thing or two from his cousin. At least when Kevin has a crush he keeps it to himself.”

Cas raised an eyebrow in question.

“Jo. Like you said, older girl, good with guns,” said Rosali with a smile. “The poor kid didn’t stand a chance. Luckily, he’s smart enough to know she wouldn’t want to date an eighteen year old.”

“Jason is twenty five.”

“I’m still uninterested.”

“As you have every right to be,” said Cas. “I’m just pointing out he has more reason to… take it personally than Kevin does.”

“He can take it however he wants,” said Rosali, which Cas supposed was fair enough. “I’m tired of being expected to feel bad when I turn someone down.”

Cas wasn’t sure what to say to that, so he wisely decided to stay silent. It wasn’t as though he were genuinely arguing Jason’s case so much as arguing for understanding. Then again, understanding Rosali’s side was important too. So he shrugged and looked back towards where the others had started to set up camp.

“Why’d we clear the road if we were just going to stop here anyway?” Rosali asked. Almost whined. Cas smiled, thinking for a moment that she and Hael would likely get along.

“Would you rather clear the road in the morning?” Cas asked her. She conceded the point with a little sigh, but made no move to get up and help set up one of the two tents they had. Cas decided to take his chance before Dean could instruct anyone in his car to keep information to themselves so Cas wouldn’t worry. “So, Dean hasn’t been able to get through to Billy…?”

“Nope,” Rosali said. She side-eyed Cas and seemed to be gauging something about him. “And he’s really pissed about it. You know, tense. Pent up.”

A strange way to describe someone, but Castiel decided to roll with it.

“So he’s concerned,” Cas mused to himself. “Do you think it might be dangerous, going to Guttur? Perhaps it would be better if we went straight to Libidine instead.”

Rosali looked thrown for a moment.

“Oh, you’re actually worried about him, you’re not just trying to…” she trailed off, blushing slightly. “You won’t talk him out of Guttur. Billy and Mortimer are our allies, and we aren’t going to be the first ones to drop the pretense. That’s just bad business.”

Cas sighed, having figured that was the case. When he saw the relieved look on Rosali’s face, he realized she was glad Cas had seemingly moved on from the subject. Having spent a good amount of time with him while they shared a cabin together at CJS, she should have known better.

“What did you think I was asking about?” Castiel asked. The look on her face when she realized he wasn’t going to let it go was incredible. If only people would stop forgetting that Castiel was, for all intents and purposes, an asshole. “What did you think I was trying to do?”

Rosali looked heavenward.

“Please don’t make me say it,” she said.

“Say what?” Cas asked, although it was already starting to dawn on him what she had meant. And now he could feel himself blushing as well. Damn it.

“I thought you were scoping out Dean,” Rosali said. “And you wanted a wingman.”

She was still staring skywards. Cas was glad she couldn’t see the embarrassed look on his own face.

“That’s very, uh, kind of you,” he said, finding himself rubbing the back of his neck. “Dean and I… you see, that’s not really… we haven’t actually, um…”

And how the tables turned. Rosali frowned and actually looked at him then. She studied his face and then grinned, obviously taking her own enjoyment at his embarrassment. Karma, Castiel supposed, had never been his friend.

“Benny will be so relieved to hear,” she snickered to herself. “And Betty too. She was lamenting half the drive about Dean being unavailable. Well, him and Charlie both being unavailable.”

“While Dean could hear her?” Cas asked, narrowing his eyes at Betty in a way Jo would surely approve of. She’d never really gotten over Charlie’s brief involvement with Betty, despite Selma pointedly remaining good friends with Betty and making frequent demands that Jo just get over it.

“Betty isn’t shy about what she wants,” said Rosali. “Though Dean wasn’t exactly correcting her about the whole being unavailable thing. You two really never…?”

Rosali looked at him significantly. Castiel shook his head.

“I haven’t. Not with anyone,” he admitted, albeit a little hesitantly. Not that there was anything wrong with it. He just wasn’t looking forward to the teasing once Rosali told everyone else. Jo was bad enough about that, though she’d eased off after seeing how much it bothered Castiel.

“Me neither,” Rosali said, nonchalant as you please. When she saw the surprised look on Cas’ face, she elaborated. “Like I said, I’m not interested.”

Castiel thought about that for a second, then remembered part of his conversation with Jo while they’d been in Canada. How she’d carefully questioned his lack of attraction to most people like it was something odd. Castiel had started to realize what a large role romance and sex played in other people’s lives, and he had wondered sometimes if he was alone in thinking for the most part it wasn’t that… important. Attraction felt like something that had suddenly been shoved in his face with both Anna and Dean, and perhaps slightly with Mandy. It had never seemed to him to be the natural order of things.

“You’re not interested in anybody?” Cas asked her. She nodded. “You don’t understand how relieved I am to hear that.”

“So, you aren’t in love with Dean?” Rosali asked, looking surprised. “You’re like me?”

“I… Dean is different,” Castiel said.

“Different how?” Rosali asked, looking genuinely curious. Words failed Castiel for a moment.

“Just… different,” he said. “I can actually… wanting to be with him makes sense. It doesn’t repulse me the way imagining myself like that with most people does. It doesn’t feel wrong.”

“I don’t really have exceptions like that,” said Rosali, with a shrug. Cas could feel that sense of oddity creeping back in, but Rosali seemed to sense it and quashed it before he could tactfully take his leave from her. “But I suppose that’s because I’m me and you’re you. There’s a lot of wrong ways to be a person, but being uninterested or interested in sex, however that works for you, isn’t one of them. Standard disclaimers applied of course.”

Rosali stood up and offered her left hand to help Cas up. Cas put forward the hand with five fingers, and Rosali switched to her right in return, taking it all in stride.

“If you do need a wingman-“ she started.

“I don’t. But thank you for the offer,” said Cas. “And thank you for being kind to me.”

“I’m a nice person,” said Rosali, self importantly. “Most of the time. I mean, some of the time. On occasion.”

“Right,” Castiel said. She winked at him, and then they walked back to join the rest of the group. Cas realized he felt a little better than he had in a while, as though his skin sat on his bones correctly in a way it hadn’t before that night. It felt good.

MAY 28, 111 A.L. - 62 MILES FROM GUTTUR

There was only one or two days left until they reached Guttur, and Castiel couldn’t be happier. To say he was sick of the time he was spending cooped up in the car would be an understatement.

He’d long since settled himself with Balthazar, Hael, and Remiel. They were almost extensions of his consciousness they’d spent so many years together, and yes it was different that Hael and Remiel were openly… into each other now, but they were still exactly what Castiel was used to. Well, Hael had squealed excitedly when Cas had convinced Wendy to lend her Song of Solomon (which apparently had little to do with the book in the bible of the same name), and Remiel had discovered that Rosali’s first language had also been Spanish, which meant they sometimes chattered on together at a speed that Castiel could only understand every other word of. Remiel had only ever spoken Spanish when required to as a member of their garrison, and this made Cas feel vaguely sad in a way he didn’t quite understand. Balthazar, mercifully, was the same loyal, wisecracking bastard he’d always been.

No, it wasn’t any of them that were getting on Cas’ nerves. It was everyone else. And in no specific order (read in a very specific order), the worst offenders were Jack, Charlie, Garth, and Dean. And of course Benny, but that was a given and the fact that his name hadn’t been at the very top of the list was evidence enough of how fed up Castiel was getting.

Charlie wasn’t speaking to him, for no reason Cas could discern. Jack was speaking to him, and speaking to him, and still speaking to him, and Cas didn’t have the heart to tell the poor kid that he wasn’t the one Jack should be looking up to. That’s what the Mary and Dean Winchesters of the world were for, and damn it, Jack would be a lot safer for it if he looked for a better role model. Garth was less loquacious than Jack, but he still had the unfortunate habit of being Cas’ therapist and making him think of his various traumas and having to actually deal with them instead of allowing him to pretend they hadn’t happened and hope he died before that came back to bite him.

And Dean. Well, Dean was just acting strange.

He started laughing too loudly around Cas, and he mentioned the car he was driving every other sentence. The car was a monstrosity of cannibalized parts fit together and spray painted black, the original make, model, and shape of the car completely obscured. The state only made jeeps and other vehicles suited for military movement, and civilians that could find the parts to make and deal with the upkeep of their own cars were rare. The fact that Dean had done so and apparently by himself in the years between his escaping prison and finding his mother (which Cas had only just learned was a missing period of time in his knowledge of Dean’s story) was impressive, but Cas didn’t really consider it news worth sharing several times a day. Even if Dean did look handsomely excited every time he brought it up.

Garth had suggested they switch up the driving arrangements on the third day, in order to better get to know each other, and Cas had figured this was a fine enough idea. That was of course before a sullen Charlie had ceded the passenger side seat to him, and Dean had spent the entire day’s drive pestering him about the barely listenable music he’d had Ash restore for the out of date CD player that had been welded into the front of the car.

“C’mon Cas, it’s real music,” Dean had said, after Cas had politely pointed out he could barely pick out the different instruments.

“It’s mostly static.”

“Mom says her grandpa used to talk about when all cars had music. At the touch of a button even,” Dean said, reminiscing about a time he wasn’t even alive for. Cas gave him a look. “What would you know anyways? What do they even let soldiers listen to?”

“State approved music,” Hael had called in from the backseat. Cas had looked back, hoping his face accurately conveyed the varying levels of ‘shut up’ he was hoping to.

“And what kind of music does the state approve?” Dean asked. Hael shrugged and looked down, obviously having gotten Cas’ message. Remiel, luckily was snoring against Hael’s side.

“Brahms mostly,” Charlie said offhandedly. “To help with getting to sleep, or increasing focus.”

Cas really needed to figure out why Charlie was angry with him. These betrayals could not be allowed to continue, especially when Cas was already at a disadvantage when it came to managing Dean’s new strange behavior.

“Like I said,” Dean said, now sure of his superiority in musical tastes. “You’ve got no idea what you’re talking about, Cas. You wouldn’t know music if it bit you in the ass.”

“My favorite kind of music is silence,” said Cas.

“That’s not music.”

“Music to my ears,” Cas had said back, which somehow led to Dean singing along to the four or five songs that you could still make out the lyrics to ad infinitum. And lo and behold, every single one of them got stuck in Cas’ head. When they stopped to clear the debris at the various road blocks that had been left between Superbia and Guttur, Cas had realized he was humming the melody of the first song Dean had played in the car.

Perhaps he wouldn’t have been quite so annoyed by this if Benny hadn’t been the one to point it out to him. Something in the dynamic of who Cas was to the people in Dean’s militia had shifted, and the way Benny treated him reflected that. Their was a genuine friendliness between the animosity now. This of course only made Benny all that much more unbearable. For reasons that were entirely logical and had nothing whatsoever to do with the fact that Cas had realized the reason Benny could read Cas so well is because he had been Cas. In love with someone who was unavailable in more ways than one.

It occurred to Cas while they were setting up camp that night, and he caught himself humming that damn song for the umpteenth time, that he really hadn’t considered just how stupid he was being. Dean, for all his other faults, was perceptive and did genuinely want what was best for the people around him. Maybe he was only interested in Cas for the potential sex and maybe there was something else there, but in the end it hardly mattered. Dean had a daughter he needed to keep safe and Cas had been a threat to that in the past and, for all Dean knew, could be a threat in the future. Or at least Cas could be if he had any future to speak of. There isn’t much use entertaining feelings for the man your mother might sentence to execution in order to slake the blood thirst that would follow the resistance’s victory. And with the way Cas fell to pieces after Anna’s death (with the way he was still falling to pieces), questioning what Cas could emotionally handle wasn’t uncalled for. The conclusion wasn’t hard to draw. Dean might want to start something (at the very least physical) with Cas, but he wasn’t going to pursue it.

Garth sounded less than impressed with these observations when Cas brought them up in their nightly therapy session. Cas had wanted them to be weekly, but with Balthazar being allowed to come along (and over Mary’s objections) he hadn’t wanted to push his luck.

“Dean doesn’t think like that,” said Garth. “Nobody thinks like that.”

“Nobody weighs the potential damage someone else can do to them?” Cas asked. Garth sighed.

“I guess so,” he said. “But not like that. You’re thinking about circumstance, and Dean doesn’t give a flying fuck about that. He can’t. Otherwise he’d have had to shoot the Moore twins and Sam in the head. Me, too. And I like my head the way it is.”

“Yes, it’s very average looking.”

“That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me,” said Garth. Cas wasn’t sure if he was being serious, and decided he didn’t like being on the receiving end of absurdity played straight, hypocritical as that might be. “Betsy thinks I’m cute as a button. And she didn’t give one toot that I wasn’t good for her future either. I put us in danger the moment I started patching resistance folks up and she stuck by me. And don’t tell Betsy I said this, but Dean is about twice as crazy and stubborn as she is.”

“That’s likely true,” Castiel admitted. “It doesn’t change the fact that Dean knows I am a very bad idea.”

“That being the case, I’m surprised nothing’s happened already,” said Garth. “My dude doesn’t do boring. And you’re… you.”

“Most of the time,” Castiel said. “What do you think I should do? I can’t ignore it, that doesn’t work. I can’t avoid him.”

“You could actually try talking to him about all of this.”

“Because Dean is known especially for his willingness to talk things out.”

“You’d be surprised,” said Garth. “He seems all tough, but he’s really a teddy bear. And he’s a lot more in touch with himself than people give him credit for.”

“I thought you were supposed to be my therapist.”

Garth grinned, shrugging.

“You can’t just turn the psychobabble off,” he said. “Once you know how people work, it gets real fun trying to figure the tough ones out.”

“Well, then consider this a favor for a friend,” said Cas. “What should I do about Dean, given your alleged insight into his psyche?”

Garth considered that. He frowned to himself for a while before shaking his head.

“Tell him everything and the rest’ll sort itself out,” said Garth. “Dean’s a straight shooter. He’s not gonna sugarcoat anything, but he’s already pretty sweet on you, so…”

Then Garth led Cas on to other things, such as whether or not Cas still had suicidal thoughts and other such cheerful topics of conversation. When they were done, Cas considered for a moment doing as Garth had advised. He could conceivably lay it all out there, and get a final answer. Good or bad, at least the waiting and wondering would be over.

Then again, apparently a faint hope was more important than the cold comfort of certainty, because Cas went to sleep that night without a word to Dean. All through his dreams, that same song from the car played over and over, and Cas started to think that maybe it wasn’t so terrible after all.

MAY 30, 111 A.L. - GUTTUR

“Dean, please just stop,” said Charlie. The fact that she was siding with Cas (even if everyone else in the car was also siding with Cas) was testament to just how annoying Dean had decided to make himself that day. Even Jack had quietly voiced his disapproval. Quietly. Dorothy and Betty had made numerous attempts to dissuade Dean from going through those same five songs again.

Dean had responded the same way every time: turn the music up a little louder. That didn’t change when Charlie was the one asking.

“When one of you does all of the driving, then you can pick the music. Until then, pray to God you end up in the other car on our way to Libidine. Don’t think I don’t know you’ve all started drawing straws. Assholes.”

“I can drive,” Castiel offered. Dean side-eyed him, almost as though he were considering it.

“You want to drive?” he said, suspicious.

“If it means I get to stop the infernal noises coming out of your stereo, then yes,” said Cas. “In general, I don’t mind one way or the other.”

Something lit up behind Dean’s eyes, and he smirked at Cas. He also turned the stereo down slightly though, so Cas was entirely on board with playing whatever game Dean had gotten into his head as long as the reprieve lasted.

“Y’know,” said Dean conversationally. “Most men care who’s driving. It’s an ego thing.”

“As long as everyone gets where they need to go, why should it matter?” Cas asked. Dean smirked at him, and that clued Cas in pretty fast that Dean was not talking about driving right now. What exactly he was talking about eluded Cas for the moment. “Idiotic rules about music privilege aside.”

“I don’t know,” said Dean, still smiling. “Some guys just like to be the one behind the wheel. In control. You can control the pace, when to hit the brakes, how hard you want to go-“

“Dean,” said Charlie, very seriously. “I will actually kill you with a spoon to make you stop talking right now.”

“You don’t have a spoon, so that’s an empty threat,” said Dean. “Anyway, where was I… oh yeah, and some people are real passenger seat drivers. Bossy fucking-“

“Sex,” Cas realized out loud, interrupting. “You’re talking about sex. You’re using driving as a euphemism for sex.”

Cas was a little proud of himself for catching on so quickly. Dean gave him a look.

“Thank you, captain obvious,” he muttered, looking put out now.

“I didn’t get it at first,” said Cas. Dean rolled his eyes at him. “Are you trying to seduce me?”

“A rusty spoon,” Charlie repeated. “I’ll take you both out, just fucking watch me-“

“Shut up Charlie, it just started getting good,” said Betty, elbowing Charlie in the side. Cas looked back at her, frowning at her interest. Betty made a shooing gesture towards him, as if to say go on. Cas turned back to face the front.

“All of you are fired,” said Dean. This caused no shortage of general complaints (Jack was especially certain he couldn’t be fired, since he hadn’t done anything wrong) and Dean responded to it all by turning up his CDs as loud as they could go. This only lasted the five minutes before Guttur was in sight. “Quit your whining, it’s going off. Alright, everyone remembers what they’re supposed to be doing?”

“Guns at the ready,” said Dorothy.

“I’m supposed to stay by the car in case we need a hasty escape,” said Charlie. “Which is bullshit.”

“You know if I wanted someone to bitch at me all the time Charlie, I would have called Sam up in Ira,” said Dean. “I need you by the equipment in case something comes through from Superbia. Betty’s got your back, so you’ll be safe here. Besides, you guys need to make sure Jack and Jason don’t do anything stupid.”

“I’m not stupid. In fact, state testing indicates I’m quite intelligent,” said Jack.

“Right, so Charlie is going to make sure you don’t do anything stupid,” Dean repeated at him. Jack crossed his arms a little petulantly, but nodded. “Rosali, you know what you’re doing right?”

“Always.”

“Thank God for small favors,” said Dean. “Garth, you make sure you’ve got Benny’s back since he’s gonna be distracted watching mine. Cas-“

“I don’t talk,” said Cas, as though it had been drilled into him. Which it had. Honestly Cas was surprised he wasn’t being forced to stay behind with Charlie. The only reason he could think of was that ordering him to stay behind would mean Dean would lose the spare manpower that came with Hael, Remiel, and Balthazar coming along.

“You’ve got it,” said Dean. “Everyone remember, Billie is fucking smart and she isn’t messing around. Don’t screw with her, it will bite us all in the ass.”

“I wish she would bite my ass,” said Betty. “And Pamela, too. Damn, those two. Two perfect, beautiful women and they had to go for each other. Take pity on the rest of us, why don’t you?”

“And you wonder why I left you on guard duty,” said Dean. He sounded amused despite himself, and Betty didn’t take it for a second.

“You left me on guard duty because I’m your second best shot. Don’t try to play me, Winchester,” said Betty, narrowing her eyes at him. “I might just shoot you in the ass to prove a point. In fact, I would if I didn’t like looking at it.”

“Like I said. Small favors,” muttered Dean. The general banter this had caused quieted down as they entered the city. Everyone tensed, focusing on what they would need to be doing and trying to be aware of their surroundings. The city seemed unchanged from the last time Castiel had seen it. A rusting destroyed city of mostly unusable buildings where the majority of the population lived in structures they had built along the streets.

Driving got hard the closer to the center of the city they got. Soldiers roamed the streets, but no one stopped them on their way to Mortimer’s home. Almost as though they’d been ordered not to stop them. Dean had papers they could use and had taken one of the less conspicuous routes through the city as preventative measures, but they turned out to be entirely unnecessary. It was making the hairs stand up on the back of Cas’ neck.

“Something’s wrong,” he said to Dean in an urgent whisper. It was only then he realized that Dean’s hands were white from gripping the steering wheel so hard.

“Billie must have known we were coming,” he said. “Can’t back down now. The only way is through.”

“Dean-“

“It’ll be okay or it won’t,” Dean snapped. “Shut up about it.”

So they kept up their steady drive towards Mortimer. It was only fifteen minutes, but the dead silence in the car made it feel like hours. Cas looked back to see the other people in the car counting the increasing amounts of soldiers they were spotting. They were all pale faced, their eyes darting around them and Cas was sure he looked much the same. However, Dean was right. At this point there was nothing they could do but stick to the plan and hope that it wasn’t in Billie or Mortimer’s interest to kill them.

When they got there, everyone leapt into action. Dean pulled over, and checked behind him that Benny had made it before quickly and quietly murmuring a last second set of orders to Charlie and Betty. They nodded seriously and Charlie got to work on their radio and satellite equipment, fingers flying across her portable keyboard and adjusting dials left and right. Jack sat and watched this with rapt attention verging on awe, sullenness forgotten. Jason and Betty took up position to guard Charlie while she worked. Everyone else grouped around Dean similarly defensive.

“I don’t like this, brother,” Benny said to Dean.

“Join the club,” said Dean back. “Rosali, you’ve got enough ammo?”

“Not for all of the soldiers we saw,” Rosali said grimly. “And even if I did, I’m good but no one’s that good.”

“Great,” said Dean. He didn’t take out his own gun, but his hand twitched towards it. “Don’t get trigger happy on me, okay? We talk to Billie like she’s still our ally. Dorothy?”

“Mary said anything I say will be what she would say by proxy. Full power of negotiation,” Dorothy said, confirming whatever Dean was asking. “We can deal with this as quickly as possible and then leave.”

“Let’s get it over with then,” said Dean. They walked up the steps, armed and ready to shoot and no one stopped them. Cas felt himself worrying more and more as they got close to the doors. It was a little anticlimactic when they opened and Pamela was standing in front of them, sunglasses flashing in the afternoon light.

“We’ve been waiting,” she said, reaching out and unerringly finding Dean’s face. “I thought it was you. You know your nose whistles a little while you breathe?”

“I didn’t think Billie would use her blind wife as a shield,” said Dean back, making Pamela frown and pat his cheek a little harder than necessary. “What the fuck is going on Pamela?”

“Let’s go inside,” she said. Dean scoffed. “Dean, would I lie to you? Have I ever lied to you?”

“To me? Nah,” said Dean. “Then again we used to be on the same team.”

“We still are,” Pam stressed. “Come inside. We’ll explain everything.”

Dean glanced back at Benny, a clear question in his eyes. Benny nodded slightly.

“Fine,” said Dean sweeping past Pamela through the door. Benny rushed off behind him, with Garth and Rosali on their heels. Cas followed with his fellow former soldiers and Dorothy took up the rear.

They were led to the room Cas had been sent to the last time he was in Guttur. As they walked, Pamela chattered over their nervous silence. They all filed into the room and looked at Pamela expectantly. She knocked on a door that led to another room, and out came Billie and Mortimer. The three Gutturmen took their seats and waited patiently for Dean to do the same.

At last, Dean sat. Dorothy sat beside him, and everyone else kept their weapons at the ready. It was odd that Mortimer hadn’t demanded they put the guns away. Perhaps it was a sign of good faith. Cas couldn’t make heads or tails of the skeletal figure in front of him. If Dean’s closed off expression was anything to go by, he was in the same boat.

“I’m waiting,” Dean said at last. Mortimer regarded him coolly, still not speaking. Dean turned away from him. “Billie, you want to tell me what the hell is going on here?”

“You’ve always been insolent,” said Mortimer. “And brash and reckless. You’re in the middle of a city surrounded by soldiers who answer to me, and you still can’t keep your mouth shut for longer than a second can you?”

“You aren’t going to-“

“Mr. Winchester, consider this,” said Mortimer. “I find you somewhat more reasonable than your mother. If that ceases to be the case, I won’t hesitate to end you.”

“My mom would kill you.”

“Superbia’s a long way away for an army,” said Mortimer. “Especially an army already facing down a threat they don’t have the numbers to beat. I invite you, Mr. Winchester, to consider just how insignificant your threats are to me.”

This is when Billie broke in. Cas may not know much, but he knew a con when he saw one. He’d had his rations stolen one too many times by Balthazar and Benjamin not to. Billie was the voice of reason, the lighthouse in the storm. It was a carefully crafted persona and it fit her like a glove, but ultimately it was all part of the act.

“We don’t want to end our alliance,” said Billy. “And we don’t want to hurt you. We see a place for you, Dean. You could be a part of building a new world.”

Dean narrowed his eyes at her.

“Forgive me for being a little suspicious about the people that tried to recruit my own men to spy on me,” Dean said. None of them blinked. “You had to know Cas would tell me about that.”

“He told us as much. It doesn’t matter, we have other spies,” said Billie, eyes flicking up to look at Cas. “We see a place for him, too. And if you were smart, you would pay attention to that. Your soldier is a dead man walking already, and we might hold the key to his salvation.”

“Maybe you should stop focusing on the new world order and start focusing on winning the damn fight,” Dean hissed at them.

“We did win our fight,” Billie stressed. “Markov’s dead.”

“As a doornail,” Pamela confirmed. It made sense now, the soldiers that had been tailing them. The entire city was under Mortimer’s control, which meant the resistance had successfully staged a coup with the death of one man. That was nepotism for you, Cas supposed. He didn’t much like the fact that Mortimer seemed to have killed his brother without regret or shame. It didn’t speak much for him feeling anything in the way of attachment.

“So you have the resources to fight in Superbia?” Dorothy said. Billie and Mortimer just looked at her. “You pledged your alliance to Mary Winchester.”

“We did,” said Mortimer. “But we’ve decided our assistance in this matter will come with conditions.”

“What conditions?” Dorothy said, whipping the words out with the force of a tornado.

“Her support for me as Leader,” said Mortimer. “And the mandatory execution of Naomi. The power system in Superbia needs to be permanently dismantled.”

“No,” said Castiel. Dean turned back to glare at him, and Cas remembered he’d agreed he shouldn’t be speaking. “Superbia deserves autonomy.”

“Cas. Shut up,” Dean said. He turned back around to face Mortimer. “Naomi has to die. Fine. We’ll get rid of anything to do with the state, but Superbia is gonna govern itself.”

“If it can be the capital, people will want it to remain the capital,” said Mortimer calmly. “Over time, we can renegotiate exactly what we are going to do with the city, but for now we need to show everybody that a return to the state is impossible. If we leave anything in place that could cause the country to move backwards, it will. People learn to love the things that bind them.”

“Yeah, don’t sell me that. This is a power play,” said Dean. “You don’t want to get rid of the state, you want to be in charge of it. Or are we gonna pretend that it wasn’t state soldiers tailing us the second we got here. Weird how they knew we were coming, even though all your radio signals are jammed.”

“We have surveillance at the road blocks,” said Billie calmly. “Seemed like a good idea. If Naomi crushes you, we want a warning before she goes after us.”

“You mean when Naomi crushes us?” asked Dean. “What did you get out of your deal with Rowena?”

“A promise not to invade, and military support if necessary,” said Mortimer. “You should have known better than to trust a foreign army as the majority of your numbers in an attack, Dean. Especially one that would have handed the city over to Western Canada. We were correcting for your mistakes, and I don’t appreciate the implication that we are trying to sabotage your efforts. We’ve told you our conditions for supplying help. Meet them, or leave.”

Dean looked at Dorothy. She seemed to weigh the options, her lips pursed tight in anger.

“Mary will agree to terms,” she said at last.

“Wait, what?” Dean said, turning to look at Dorothy. “You know what they’re asking for-“

“Mary will agree to terms,” Dorothy repeated, this time at Dean. Dean fell silent, angrily looking the other way. “We need to win the war, Dean. You understand that. That’s why you made the deal with Crowley in the first place.”

“Like Crowley was ever going to hold me to that,” he hissed back at her. “We could have bought Superbia back.”

“Sacrifices have to be made,” Dorothy said back. “Superbia will recover eventually, but they aren’t wrong that if we don’t humble it, state loyalists might try to tear down everything we’ve done. When we win, it has to be over.”

Dean grit his teeth and looked back at Mortimer, Billie, and Pamela.

“Fine. We agree to terms,” he said. “How many men?”

“What we can spare,” said Billie.

“So not enough.”

“Isn’t that what your trip to Libidine is for?” Billie asked. Dean’s spine stiffened. “Like I said, we still have spies. We’ll send five hundred men to Superbia, and you make up the rest of what you need in numbers from Jesse.”

“Why do you need people here?” Dean asked.

“Lucrum isn’t as far away as it looks,” said Billie. “And Rowena keeps her promises only if it’s useful for her. You’ve left a decent portion of your forces in Ira for the same reason. I’m sure keeping Sam out of the line of fire wasn’t your only motivation in leaving him behind.”

“It keeps Invidia surrounded in case they get ideas.”

“The same here,” said Billie. “Except we’re surrounded by enemies. Superbia to the East, refugee camps to the West, Lucrum to the Southwest, and Canada in the North. Do you understand why we’re concerned about our own survival?”

Dean sighed, but nodded. He got it. It was a con, but it wasn’t an unmotivated con. The position of power Mortimer was trying to maneuver Guttur into was fragile. An attack from any side could wipe out their chances.

“What are you going to do about the soldiers?” Castiel asked. Mortimer and Billie’s eyes swung to him. He stared them down. “I assume you’ve pardoned those under your command. What will you do with the rest of them?”

“We haven’t decided yet,” Billie told Cas calmly. “That depends on you.”

What?

“Me?” Castiel asked, frowning to himself. That didn’t make any sense.

“You’re not negotiating with Cas, you’re negotiating with us,” Dean broke in forcefully, obviously trying to redirect the conversation. “So we need to-“

“Yes, you,” Billie interrupted, speaking as though she couldn’t hear Dean. “People know your name, Castiel. What happened in Superbia has spread beyond its borders, and the soldiers see you as something of a martyr. A template for who to be in a new world. Among citizens and the resistance you are… less well liked. But the soldiers, they respect you. They believe in you. You change minds and loyalties.”

“It’s true,” Balthazar said when Billie looked at him, Hael, and Remiel pointedly. “Cas, when we thought you were going to be speaking out against Naomi, people were willing to listen. That’s unheard of. Soldiers don’t abandon their posts.”

“What do you want from me?” Cas asked Billie, trying to ignore the roaring in his ears and the sudden fear that was invading him. He couldn’t be given that much responsibility. He barely knew how to be responsible for himself.

“Support Mortimer,” said Billie. “That is our only condition for a full pardon of every state soldier. When the war is over, they will be reintegrated into society. We promise.”

Cas could feel the panic attack coming on. He didn’t trust Billie or Mortimer, but what she was offering him was better than Mary Winchester would ever be able to. It was a path to safety, in theory at least. Did he deserve that? Did it matter? Was it his duty to protect the other soldiers no matter what it took? Exactly what did support entail?

Dean must have noticed the impending panic attack, because he acted swiftly.

“Garth, get Cas out of here. Balthazar, you with him,” Dean ordered. Balthazar didn’t look thrilled to be ordered about, but did as he was told anyway. Cas had barely left the room before he collapsed against the wall, breathing hard. It felt like he was having a heart attack.

“Cassie,” said Balthazar. “What’s wrong? What can I do? Castiel?”

Garth gently pushed Balthazar out of the way and knelt in front of Castiel. He kept his palms forward to show they were empty.

“C’mon, Cas,” Garth said. “You know what to do. Deep breaths. That’s it. You’re safe. No one is keeping you here. No one is going to hurt you. Deep breaths.”

As Cas slowly calmed himself, he began to tune into his surroundings again. He felt shame as he saw Balthazar looking down at him, horrified. As though there were something actually wrong with him, instead of his panic being a symptom of his own damn weakness. His inability to cope. Garth kept speaking to him, working hard to prevent Cas from sliding back into a full scale panic attack. As Cas finally worked his way out of it, he noticed the muffled yelling that could be heard through the door.

“-think Cas is all there? What the fuck are you doing Billie? He can’t- He can barely handle getting up in the morning sometimes and you want him to get involved with this bullshit plan you have to-“

“Ignore them,” Garth told Cas firmly. “Ignore him. He’s just worried, he doesn’t mean it that way. You’re doing great, Cas.”

Cas stared down at his lap. He’d been getting better. He’d been trying so hard to get better.

“Yes, he does,” Cas said. “He thinks I’m weak. I am weak. I- I-“

“Cassie, if you think that for a second,” said Balthazar, shaking his head. “Did you know Anna asked the rest of us, before she picked her second in command, who we wanted: you or Uriel? Uriel was more qualified, and recommended by the state as the senior pick, but she wanted to know what we thought. Hael spoke up first, and mentioned that you always encouraged her when she felt she couldn’t complete a training exercise. Benjamin told us how you were the one to tell him to speak to Anna about changing his name and his clothing to be more comfortable with himself, and you were sure to defend him to anyone who would question the changes. Almost everyone chose you, and those who didn’t were won over soon enough. Anna was our commander, but you were our heart. And you are not weak.”

“I… I don’t know what to do,” said Cas miserably. “I used to be so certain of myself, and now… Balthazar, what if I choose wrong? I just wanted to keep Dean safe, but… I don’t know who I owe myself too. Him, or… everyone else.”

Balthazar shrugged and sat down next to Castiel.

“You’ll do what you think is right. You always have,” said Balthazar. “And I’ve known you longest, so take that on good authority.”

Cas cracked a smile, and felt better when Garth sat down next to him on his other side. They let him sit in silence thinking, and the right choice came to him slowly. At least he hoped it was the right choice.

MAY 31, 111 A.L. - GUTTUR

Cas woke when Charlie slammed the door on her way out of their shared room.

Billie had insisted they spend the night, and told them she would debrief them with information they needed in the morning. Because of this, Dean had taken a cue from Risa and assigned everyone a buddy to keep an eye on. He had paired himself with Benny, Balthazar with Jack, Remiel and Hael, and Cas with Charlie, then told everyone else to sort themselves out. It was the sort of heavy handed action that made both Charlie and Cas furious, and certainly hadn’t worked out the way Dean intended.

Since it was his job to stay with Charlie, however, Cas leapt from his bed to find his shoes and a weapon before springing after Charlie. She looked thoroughly annoyed when he caught up to her.

“Don’t talk to me.”

“I wasn’t going to.”

“See that right there. That is classified as talking. Stop it. I’m mad at you.”

“I gathered as much. Why are you mad at me?”

Charlie stopped walking.

“Seriously, dude, what are you not getting about the not talking thing? I get it, you want to get on Dean’s good side, but tailing me doesn’t mean we have to chat.”

“Noted,” said Cas. “But Charlie-“

“No. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“What did I do wrong?” Cas asked. “Is this because… Jo and I were never anything, I know you thought something-“

“I know, okay? That’s not the issue.”

“And I was only trying to do the right thing infiltrating Superbia. I couldn’t have known-“

“I’m not mad at you for getting your butt tortured, okay?” Charlie whisper yelled. “Oh god. I don’t want to do this.”

“Do what?”

Charlie crossed her arms and looked up at him defiantly.

“Fine. You picked a side,” said Charlie. “With Jo and me. You decided everything was my fault. Good friends don’t do that.”

“I didn’t-“

“Yeah, you did. You told me not to break her heart, like Jo was some innocent angel compared to me. Like she wasn’t half the problem. She ended things with me. How do you think that felt? I- I finally told her that I loved her back and she dumped me. And you told everyone afterwards that was a good thing.”

“Charlie-“

“No. It’s not stupid, okay? I watched my parents burn. I heard them screaming, and I couldn’t save them. I have never stopped being scared. I’m still not okay and I don’t know if I ever will be. If Jo couldn’t wait for me to figure that out, that’s fine. But you were supposed to be my friend, and you were supposed to want to hear my side and you didn’t.”

What was Cas supposed to say? That he didn’t know? Jo had told him as much about Charlie’s past. Charlie had tried multiple times to reach out to him, and he had repeatedly taken Jo’s side. Nothing Charlie was accusing him of was wrong.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“Yeah, me too,” said Charlie. “I stood up for you so many times. How could you not have my back? How could you not-”

Charlie trailed off, and suddenly she was hugging Cas. Cas hesitated to hug her back, but when she didn’t appear to be stopping, he did.

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “I just… I guess I empathized with Jo. I shouldn’t have-“

“Just shut up, Cas,” Charlie said, squeezing the hug a little tighter. Cas took the hint. When Charlie let him go, she nodded to herself. “I’m only forgiving you conditionally, okay?”

“What are the conditions?”

“Don’t be such a jerk,” said Charlie. “And… and you owe me a huge favor.”

“I can do that,” Cas said with what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “I didn’t choose Jo over you. We just got close, and I lost perspective.”

They started walking again towards the room they would eating breakfast in.

“It’s not… it’s not completely your fault,” Charlie admitted, as they walked. Although she was less angry with him now, Cas could still sense the anger simmering under the surface. And suddenly it all made more sense to him. Yes, Charlie wasn’t happy with Cas getting so close to Jo, but that wasn’t what the silent treatment was about. Charlie was using Cas as a stand in for Jo. Someone to ignore and be spiteful towards, because Charlie was hurt and Jo wasn’t here. “Jo has a way of getting people to see her side of things.”

“She’s very charismatic.”

“Yeah, she is,” Charlie admitted, looking off. “You know, she’s watching Crookshanks? Stupid cat cried when I tried to force her off on Risa.”

“You could have asked Selma,” Cas pointed out. Charlie gave him a look. “Ah. You know about that.”

“Selma is a lot of things, but she isn’t subtle,” said Charlie with a sigh. “And what am I supposed to say? Don’t try to find happiness after grieving your fiancee for literal years? I’m not a fucking monster. Doesn’t mean I’m going to start asking her for favors.”

“I suppose that’s slightly better than how Jo handled Betty,” said Cas. “Jo still fantasizes about shooting her. In jest, of course.”

Charlie snorted. Her smile fell a second later.

“Yeah. Sounds like Jo. Vindictive, jealous idiot,” said Charlie, her tone saying something far different than her words. Fond and distant all at once. “I wasn’t enough for her, was I?”

“You are more than enough, Charlie,” said Cas. “But perhaps you weren’t right for her, and that isn’t at all the same thing. Now the both of you have the chance to find someone who makes you happy, or to find happiness on your own. That seems to me to be an act of love.”

“Y’know, for a dorky gay virgin, you’re not half bad at girl talk,” Charlie muttered, punching him in the shoulder lightly. Cas shrugged it off, accepting it as the affection it was.

“I’m not gay,” Cas corrected, skipping the rest over. “I’m- I- I don’t know. Rosali could tell you better than I could.”

Charlie frowned.

“Oh, it’s like that,” she said. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but… Geez, I can’t see that going over well with Dean. I mean, sex is like really important to him. And he really likes you.”

“It’s not quite like that,” Castiel corrected softly. “There are people I can… It isn’t cut and dry, is what I am trying to say. And Dean is…”

“What?” Charlie prompted as Cas tried to look for a word.

“Interesting,” he settled on at last. “He’s interesting. And I love him, which makes everything else more confusing.”

“You know he’s waiting for you to make a move, right?” Charlie asked, after digesting this. “Like, real insider info here. I may have told him to get over himself and move on, but don’t take that personally. I just… I can never tell if you’re actually into him. You give off weird vibes.”

Cas snorted, looking off.

“Jo knew before I did,” he said. “Or rather she knew before I admit it to myself. Everyone else just assumed after a while, but Jo knew.”

“Yeah, she would. She had a huge crush on him way back in the day. I’m gonna guess she wasn’t nice about it with you,” said Charlie. “Jo doesn’t always know where the line is.”

“She thought it was funny. And then she thought it was sad,” said Cas, shrugging to himself. “Dean doesn’t date. I don’t do anything. Or I haven’t and I’m uncertain whether I want to try. And, of course there is a war that needs to be won, which is more important than anything else.”

“Fair enough,” said Charlie. “What do you think Billie wanted us to stick around for?”

“They’ve been surveilling all pathways into Guttur. They know what’s ahead of us better than we do. If we cooperate with their plans, it suits them to make sure we win over Superbia. The best method to win over Superbia is to gather the forces we need.”

“So you think there’s something between us and Libidine in the way?” Charlie asked. Cas nodded. “Lucrum?”

“Hopefully not. All reports we’ve gotten from Kate have indicated they’ve been isolating themselves from the other cities. They intend to survive, not help. If I had to guess our problem will be refugees.”

“You think Libidine is turning people away?”

“They only have so many resources,” said Cas. “And they’ll want to be careful about who they let in. Let a person averse to their interests climb high enough in whatever system of government they’ve devised, and they’ll see how quickly it falls.”

“We’re still locked out from communicating with them,” said Charlie. “Jesse and Cesar were good guys. I can’t see them just… closing off Libidine like this.”

“You think they may not be waiting there for Dean to talk to.”

“I think we have to get ready for that possibility,” Charlie said. “And the other thing?”

“What other thing?” Castiel asked, feigning ignorance. Charlie elbowed him again, harder this time.

“Are you going to back Mortimer?” she asked. “He’s bad news. Seriously, we don’t know what he wants, and he clearly has no issues killing people who get in his way.”

“Yes,” Cas admitted. Charlie stared him down. “It’s the best chance we’ll get. I don’t want to die, Charlie. I don’t want Balthazar, or Hael, or Jack, or any one of the rest of us to die. I can’t turn that down.”

Charlie wrapped her arms around herself and nodded.

“I guess I can’t blame you for that,” she said. Of course there were a lot of other people who would, but Castiel would deal with that when he had to.

JUNE 1, 111 A.L. - 50 MILES WEST OF GUTTUR

Castiel volunteered to help clear the first road block instead of setting up camp. He got more than one dirty look from Jason, and Benny, and even Rosali as he walked off. It wasn’t surprising. By accepting Mortimer’s deal, Cas had in essence gone over Dean’s head. It wasn’t a good look for someone that until much too recently had been a spy bent on the resistance’s destruction.

His own people had no such issues. Balthazar, Hael, Remiel, and Jack volunteered to help him with the clearing, efficiently splitting the group in two. They all got to work.

“I don’t think you did the right thing,” Jack said quietly while he helped Cas clear the road.

“Yes, well you and most other people I know,” said Cas back. “If the resistance has to back them, why shouldn’t I too?”

“Because it’s not right,” said Jack, as though it were obvious. “At least most of the other cities feed their citizens. Have you seen Guttur?”

“Better than Lucrum,” Cas said. “And yes, I’ve seen it.”

“Well, it hasn’t changed just because Mortimer’s in charge now,” Jack said. “And they already double-crossed the General. You can’t trust them.”

“I can’t trust anyone,” said Cas. “And yet, I can’t live my life as though everyone is lying.”

“But Mortimer definitely is.”

“You’re seventeen years old, and you’ve been on active duty for less than a year,” said Cas. “Forgive me if I don’t care about your opinion.”

For once, Jack doesn’t back down when Cas yells at him. Instead he keeps staring straight at Cas like he’s disappointed with what he sees. It hurts more than Cas was expecting. Perhaps he’d grown more used to having someone look at him like he was a hero than he should have.

“You do what’s right,” said Jack. “That’s the only thing I know about you. Even when it hurts you, you do what’s right. You saved my life, and that’s why you got caught when you were on the run. You could have gotten away, but you didn’t want anyone to die.”

“I was a suicidal train wreck. Don’t read into it,” said Cas. Jack frowned at him. He didn’t understand. In fact, Castiel was glad he didn’t understand. He hoped Jack would never have to. “Mary Winchester will do her best to protect former soldiers, as long as I understand she can’t protect me. Mortimer just promised to protect all of us. If things go bad between them, I… I have to make sure that whatever side wins, people are safe. And I want to be safe too.”

Jack nodded thoughtfully, his face going blank as he seemed to analyze the situation from all sides.

“Mortimer won’t keep his promise,” Jack said, completely confident.

“If you’re so certain,” said Cas. “Perhaps you should start disassociating yourself from me.”

“But I like you,” said Jack, frowning again. “Can’t I disagree with you and still like you? That’s what Gadreel always said. Just because other people are wrong doesn’t mean you can’t be friends with them.”

“You might not want to phrase it that way if you want people to like you,” Cas muttered. Jack shrugged, but seemed to take that advice to heart at least. “Not that that is always the most important thing.”

“I know,” Jack said. He sat down on one of the piles of rubble, and Castiel realized with a start that they had finishes clearing the roadway. Balthazar, Remiel, and Hael were busy playing an old bonding game Anna had taught them all. Cas smiled as he watched them. “Everyone trusts you.”

“Everyone is stupid,” Cas said back, trying not to chuckle when he saw Hael falter in mimicking Remiel’s movements. A moment later, Hael nearly fell over laughing as Remiel made a funny face at her. Balthazar, gamely, copied the face without laughing. The game continued.

“I trust you,” said Jack next. “Gadreel said I shouldn’t, and that you weren’t a good person, but you are. My mom used to tell me you could always tell a good person from a bad person by how they act when they have nothing to gain.”

“You remember your mother?” Cas asked. Jack shrugged.

“Sometimes,” he admitted. “I don’t know what she looks like anymore. But I remember the things she said to me. It seemed important. She’s dead now.”

“You aren’t supposed to know that.”

“She died before I took the tests,” Jack said. “A man from the resistance shot her.”

Cas wasn’t sure what Jack wanted him to do with this information.

“Jack-“

“I’m not going to do anything about it,” Jack said, seeming to sense Cas’ hesitant warning. “I just wanted to tell you. I want to learn from you. I want to understand.”

Jesus Christ himself, this boy was a child. He shouldn’t be holding a gun in his hands, or reassuring Castiel that he wouldn’t avenge his mother’s death, or trying to solve morality like it was a game you could win. Cas wasn’t sure exactly what Jack should be doing instead, but he felt a sense of loss for the childhood that had been stolen from the boy.

“I am not your friend, or your father, or your commander,” Cas said to him. “And Gadreel was right about me. You should listen to him.”

Jack went back to looking disappointed. Castiel thought perhaps he should start getting used to it, because life was full of disappointment.

Cas stood and made his way back to the camp that had been set up. He ate his share of the food, and found his sleeping bag in the mess of bedding spread across one of the two tents, and promptly tried to fall asleep. Failing that, he lay with his eyes closed so he didn’t need to talk to anyone about anything.

It was late when he heard movement outside the tents. At first he thought it was just lookouts changing hands, but Dorothy’s elbow was still poking into his side, so that couldn’t be it. Carefully, Cas extracted himself from the tent floor and made his way to the tent flap. When he left the tent, he waved Garth who was still on watch duty. Garth waved back, and Cas was reassured they weren’t being attacked. Likely someone had just needed to relieve themselves.

Cas thought about trying to sleep again, but the cool night air was a welcome reprieve from the body heat that permeated the tent. He decided to take a short walk and perhaps tire himself out enough to sleep well.

He did a short loop around camp before walking out to where they had hidden the cars in the tall grass along the road. As he passed by, a loud rapping from the inside of the glass window made him jump. Cas whirled around, weapon in hand and only relaxed when he saw Dean’s face behind the offending hand.

Dean opened the door. Cas hesitated a moment and then climbed in beside him. They both sat silently as Cas carefully replaced his gun back into his holster.

“I almost shot you,” said Cas.

“You’re real twitchy,” said Dean. “You slept yet?”

“No.”

“Yeah, me neither,” he said. Dean never slept in the tents, preferring to sleep where he wouldn’t accidentally try to kill someone upon waking. Still, that usually meant sleeping within sight of whoever was keeping watch. It was warm enough that sleeping in the open air wasn’t a problem. “I spent a lot of nights in this car, the first time I went out west. Thought the familiarity would help.”

“Did it?”

“No,” said Dean. He smiled. “Worth a shot though. What’s keeping you up?”

“Jack.”

“Then tell him to shut up.”

“No, I mean…” Cas said trailing off. “He’s so young.”

“Haven’t we already had this fight?”

“And he’s so sure of himself, and undamaged,” Cas said. “Not untouched by tragedy, no one is, but… I envy him. He wants to be like me, and he doesn’t understand that is the last thing he should want.”

“I don’t know,” Dean said. “You’re pretty cool.”

“I thought you were angry with me.”

“I am. Like all the time. I’m getting used to it,” said Dean. “Taking that deal with Mortimer was a dumb move. For both you and my mom. But hey, I get why you did it. Especially after what my mom said to you.”

“You’re very good at compartmentalizing,” Cas said, frowning at him. “I don’t think that’s a good thing.”

“Yeah, well you have your coping mechanisms and I have mine,” said Dean. “Anyway, welcome to the insomnia club. Any ideas how to pass the time?”

“We could sit here quietly until morning,” Cas suggested. Dean rolled his eyes. “Unless you’re trying to seduce me again, in which case I decline.”

“Actually,” said Dean, reaching across Cas to open up the compartment at the front of the car. In his hands was Cas’ book of poetry. “I was thinking we could do some reading. I finally found one of these poem thingies I actually liked.”

“You should ask before you touch my things,” Cas said.

“You wouldn’t even have this if it weren’t for me,” Dean grumbled. Something about the expression on Cas’ face much have changed his mind, because he set the book down and looked at Cas. He pointed at the book. “Can I see that?”

Cas entertained the idea of denying him.

“Yes. Thank you for asking.”

Dean picked the book back up, and flipped through before finding his page. He looked up at Cas and wiggled his eyebrows before starting to read.

“Come slowly,” he said, taking a long pause. Even Cas knew enough to understand the joke, and he elbowed Dean hard in his side. “C’mon, it’s funny. Whatever, I’m starting over: Come slowly—Eden! Lips unused to Thee, Bashful sip thy Jessamines as the fainting Bee. Reaching late his flower, round her chamber hums, counts his nectar, enters, and is lost in Balms.”

“Ah yes, I wonder why you like that one,” said Cas, pretending he wasn’t smiling.

“Mystery for the ages,” Dean agreed, snapping the book shut and passing it back to Cas. “Your turn.”

“You realize two can play at this game?” Cas asked, opening the book again. He had the entirety of it practically memorized he’d read through each poem so many times now. He still flipped to the correct page, and began to read. “Wild nights, Wild nights. Were I with thee, Wild nights should be our luxury. Futile, the winds, to a Heart in port, done with the Compass, done with the Chart. Rowing in Eden, ah, the Sea! Might I but moor, tonight, in thee?”

“Hot.”

“You are singularly annoying,” said Cas back, though he was grinning. He could feel the stretch of it, and he wondered how long it had been since the last time he honest to God smiled. No bitterness, or sarcasm, or misery scarcely concealed behind it. “I am not as ignorant as I once was.”

“Nah, you’re getting ahead of the game,” said Dean. “It was more fun back when you didn’t get it.”

“For you, maybe,” Cas said. He tucked the book of Dickinson’s poems back into the compartment. “Less so for me.”

Dean’s mouth twitched down in a frown. He looked out the window and back at Cas, before seeming to decide something.

“I’ll make you a deal.”

“I’ve been told I’m not good at doing that.”

“Haha, very funny. So here it is: A question for a question. We each get one pass, and we can call it off at any time. Nothing’s off limits.”

“Is that a good idea for either of us?”

“Who cares. Garth isn’t here to tell you off,” Dean pointed out. “How about this, we each get one rule for shit not to bring up.”

“Agreed,” said Cas. “Anna.”

Dean looked disappointed but not surprised.

“My dad,” he said back. Cas mentally eliminated several dozen questions. “Okay, I’m going first.”

“Do your worst.”

“You’re in a fire fight and you only get one person to help you out. Who do you choose, don’t think about, just answer right now.”

Cas stopped to think about it.

“Cas,” Dean warned.

“Um, Rosali I suppose? She’s the best shot I know,” Cas said. Dean raised an eyebrow. “You want the nonlogical answer.”

“No duh.”

“Balthazar,” said Cas. Dean made a face. “I already know you would choose Benny, so let’s agree to disagree on our taste in friends.”

“I thought Benny was growing on you.”

“Never,” Cas vowed. He heard something that sounded suspiciously like a giggle come from Dean’s direction, but decided not to comment on it.

“Anyways, you’re wrong,” said Dean. “The chips are down, odds a million to one and I only get one guy? Sam Winchester.”

“Interesting,” Cas said, frowning to himself. Dean’s brother was important to him, Cas knew that. Essential to him even. And it was true that Dean had assigned Sam as his second in command, but Cas was still convinced that was nepotism more than anything. “Who do you trust most?”

Dean’s smile slipped.

“Benny, yeah,” he said quietly. “But you don’t go running your mouth to Sam about that.”

“It’s an interesting separation,” Cas said. “Who you depend on most and who you trust most are not the same person. Is that because you can’t depend on Benny or because you can’t trust Sam?”

“My turn to ask a question,” Dean said instead of answering. “Favorite color?”

Cas flashed back to a different day and a different person. He was sitting on watch duty with his commander as the sun set over Ira. It lit up the skyline a million different colors and Anna had asked him what his favorite color was. He’d responded, dutifully, that he didn’t have a favorite color because he wasn’t a child. She’d told him just as seriously that her favorite color was sunlight through leaves, and Cas hadn’t known what that might look like until Anna had begun to haunt his dreams.

“Grey,” Cas said at last, letting the memory fade away.

“Seriously? How fucking boring,” Dean muttered. “My favorite color is red.”

“Like blood and fire. How cheery,” Cas countered. “Are you angry at your mother for abandoning you and Sam as children?”

“You’re no fucking fun,” said Dean. “ First of all, she didn’t abandon us, and I’m not getting into my banned subject- Wait, did I hit a nerve with the color question?”

“Yes,” Cas said. “How far South have you been?”

“Past the border,” said Dean, not elaborating. “What’s your real name?”

Cas paused. He turned the question over in his mind.

“You mean my old name,” he corrected. “Before the tests.”

“If you remember it,” Dean hurriedly qualified. “I’m just curious. I know they reassign names to everyone with a soldier or state worker designations so parents can’t find their kids. I’m just wondering what I would’ve called you, if things had been different.”

“If things had been different, there’s no guarantee we ever would have met,” Cas pointed out. Dean waited. “My… my old name was well- Steven James Novak.”

Cas hadn’t said that name in years. Sometimes soldiers traded names as a sign of trust, or to act as a code in case of separation. The last person Cas had told had been Benjamin, and besides him Balthazar was the only person who knew. And now Dean, Cas supposed.

“Huh, Steve,” Dean said, trying it out. “You don’t look like a Steve.”

“What do I look like?”

“I’m counting that as a question,” Dean said gleefully. “How about Emerson… Michael… oh, I’ve got it! Arthur.”

“How about Castiel?” Cas said back. Dean shrugged, still looking awfully pleased with himself. “I like my name.”

“Okay, Cas, you win,” Dean said. “And I get two questions now, because that was another question. If you could go back and not become a soldier, would you?”

“No,” Cas said. “I wouldn’t be me. I’d be a fundamentally different person.”

“Okay, well if you could go back and not leave your garrison, would you?”

“No,” Cas repeated. “I made my choices. I don’t need to repeat them. I second guess myself enough without having to actually second guess myself.”

Dean nodded.

“You know, I failed the aptitude tests on purpose,” Dean said. “I knew if I did too well they’d take me away from Sammy. Sometimes I wonder if things had been different what I woulda been. Sam got tapped for a career in science, and that shit is hard. Think I might have been at least a soldier, Cas?”

The thought of Dean in a soldier’s uniform was like looking through distorted glass. Cas felt ill thinking about it.

“I like you the way you are,” said Cas. “And I don’t like this game.”

“Ask a different question then.”

“Why do you like me?” Cas asked. “I know I’m not easy to like. Especially now.”

“Lots of reasons,” said Dean. “You give a shit, even when you try not to. It’s endearing.”

“So not just because you want to have sex with me.”

“Cas, I want to have sex with lots of people,” said Dean. “You need to stop treating it like it’s some huge thing. It isn’t. We can be friends, y’know? Honest to God, we can.”

“What if it is a thing for me?” Cas asked. Dean watched him for a long time, as though he were trying to figure something out.

“Do you want to have sex with me?” Dean asked. Cas nodded, but didn’t meet his eyes. “Cas?”

“Yes,” Cas said. “But I don’t… it would mean something to me. Do you understand?”

“Yeah, I get it,” said Dean. He took a deep breath. “So we can’t.”

“Right.”

“Because I don’t… You’re a great guy and I like you a lot-“

“But we can’t,” Cas repeated.

“I mean the flirting, it’s fun,” Dean said, as though he were trying to place a bandaid on Cas’ hurt feelings. Fatherly instinct, Castiel supposed. “But it’s just… I have a kid. And we’re in the middle of a war. And you’re… you’re fucked up in about five different ways, Cas, and that’s not even touching my issues.”

“I realize.”

“So yeah,” Dean finished lamely. “We’ve got a great big pile of nothing on our hands.”

“If you’d like to put it that way,” Cas said.

“We could make out,” Dean offered. “Not like we haven’t before.”

“It would still mean something.”

“You saying you love me, Cas?” Dean asked. It was a joke. It wasn’t subtle that it was joke, in fact it was over-telegraphed to the point no one on earth could have missed it. Cas took the question seriously, anyway, if only out of spite.

“Yes.”

Why on Earth would he say that out loud? In all honesty, Cas couldn’t begin to imagine what had possessed him to admit it. He wondered if he would shoot his own foot off as long as he got the last word. He strongly suspected the answer to that was also yes.

“You-“ Dean started. “Jesus, you really-“

“Yes,” Cas repeated, more vehemently this time. “This can’t be a surprise. You’re excellent at reading people and I have been… compromised for a long time.”

Cas supposed he should leave now. There didn’t seem to be much point in staying in a confined space with the person you’d just admitted serious romantic feelings for. Then again, it wasn’t as though he were familiar with the etiquette. Perhaps he should give Dean some time to rebut the point. No, he felt like leaving and putting as much distance between himself and Dean as possible.

“I think I’ll just-“

Cas never got the chance to finish. He was disrupted, pulled forward by his collar and left to hang an inch away from Dean’s lips. Dared to damn himself, and damn himself Cas did. For all the agonizing Cas had done over whether to act on his feelings, it was surprisingly easy to just give in once again. To let reality drift away and enjoy sensation for sensation’s sake.

Dean had moved to straddle him now, and hit his head against the ceiling of the car as he did so. Cas laughed at his affronted growl, and dragged him back down to continue the kiss. He imagined this must be what it would feel like to touch a live wire. Almost painful and yet euphoric at all once. It felt joyful.

“Let me make you feel good, Cas,” Dean asked him, his lips trailing down Cas’ neck. “It gets so much better, just let me make you feel good.”

Cas wasn’t sure he liked the phrasing, but he nodded anyway. He watched with great interest as Dean kissed his way lower and reached for Cas’ belt. Cas felt himself go very still.

“I- I’m not sure-“ Cas started. Dean froze in response, leaning back far enough that Cas could see his face again. He looked guilty.

“Shit, I shouldn’t have- I know you don’t-“

Cas leaned up to kiss Dean again, a highly effective method of shutting him up. As Dean started getting back into it, Cas broke the kiss again to copy what Dean had done earlier, trailing kisses down his neck.

“Give me the chance to catch up?” Cas asked. His throat felt tight with nerves. The strange lust that had overtaken him had faded now, and Cas’ mind had cleared. If he was going to be stupid enough to go into this, he was going to do so with both eyes open. “Please, be patient.”

Dean’s expression softened slowly. He swallowed and nodded, and pulled Cas back in, his movements taking on a more instructional quality. He would pause every so often and let Cas try something for himself. It was a slow and careful process, and Cas felt himself grow more confident as time went on. It was strange to see Dean like this, and Cas struggled to think of a time Dean had ever looked so relaxed and happy. It was almost childlike, Dean’s wonder at the fact someone was touching him.

Cas wondered if Dean was always like this. If so, he could understand the sheer number of partners Dean was reputed to have. Who could turn away from a smile so blinding?

It ended, eventually. Release hit like a punch to the gut, and Cas couldn’t help but feel great surprise. He must have made some kind of face or other, because Dean laughed as he clambered off him and settled back into the seat next to him. Cas tried to reconcile this new version of Dean with the cocky leader, the broken prisoner, the good son, and the fiercely loyal friend. He wondered how many more pieces of Dean there were left to find.

“You’re very good at that,” Cas said. Dean rolled his eyes, but looked quietly pleased with himself. “I didn’t do anything wrong, did I?”

“What? No,” said Dean. “Fucking A, dude. Seriously. That was- You were-“

Dean just smiled to himself and looked out the window next to him.

“You love me,” Dean said next, not looking at Cas. “No point trying to save you from yourself if you already- Jesus, what I’m trying to say is you’re a stubborn fucking asshole, and I’m never gonna be able to talk you out of something like that.”

“You really didn’t know?”

Dean shrugged.

“So what do we do now?” he asked. Cas looked away. He reached for a spare rag and started cleaning off his clothes as best as he could. They hadn’t actually managed to take off much clothing, and that now seemed a problem as Cas did his best to prevent any incriminating stains from his pants and shirt. He passed the rag to Dean when he had done all that could be done.

“I’m going to go to sleep,” Cas decided, making to open the door. Dean stopped him, hand encircling his wrist.

“Just stay here,” Dean said. “Back seat isn’t a half bad night’s sleep.”

“Alright,” Cas agreed. Again, he was wondering if this was the correct etiquette. Should he be behaving differently in the aftermath of his first sexual experience? It was hugely frightening in the moment, but now it had passed Cas still felt like himself. It wasn’t any kind of earth shattering revelation so much as it was another step in a gradual new awareness of himself. Sex was nice, Cas supposed, and it seemed to be especially nice with Dean. But overall he found himself more drawn to how wonderfully pleased Dean had been with the whole situation. It filled Cas with a sense of warmth and accomplishment that he was the one who had made Dean Winchester look so at peace with the world, if only for a little while.

“Next time I’m getting you naked.”

“Go to sleep, Dean,” Cas muttered, though there was a certain fondness to his annoyance. Cas wasn’t sure exactly what ‘next time’ meant, but it sounded a little like a promise. A promise of something, at least.

Cas lay awake until near morning, listening as Dean’s breaths slowed into soft snores. Before long, Cas was out too.

**********

Cas found himself under the apple tree once again. It was at once familiar and utterly alien because Castiel was alone. Anna was nowhere to be found. The only living creature besides Castiel that he could discern was a bee, buzzing around a flower. Cas lazily watched the bee for a while before turning his attention to the sky.

“Sunlight through leaves,” he said to himself, thinking of Anna’s detailed answer to her favorite color and years later finding her words reflected back at him through Dean Winchester’s eyes. “Do you believe in fate, Anna?”

She didn’t answer. Loneliness rang through Castiel’s soul, clear as a bell. It hurt less than it usually did.

“No. That was always me, wasn’t it?” said Cas. “I still miss you, but… I think that’s okay. I think I might be okay.”

There was nothing to answer him. Cas nodded his head.

“I hope you can forgive me for that.”

He supposed this was what letting go must feel like.

**********

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of note: I have been trying to write Cas as sex positive grey-ace, and that becomes especially prevalent in this chapter. I'm not using this terminology in-story, but that is what I'm trying to get across with his characterization. I haven't tagged this because I don't think the story engages with Cas' sexuality enough to be a defining feature, and I know some people look for ace Cas stories that do explore that in more detail.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Have a wonderful day, or evening, or whatever time it is :)


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